#“Jason it’s been five years PLEASE stop

[ghost-bxrd]

read your ask about how the batfam would react to learning that someone stole jason's coat during a gala and for two secs it didn't register whose asks i was reading that i just went "i mean why would they even care? i mean sure, it's shitty but shit happens, unless it was designer? but bruce is a billionaire why would they- ooooh right"

felt like i should share

Lmaooo I can totally see that happen to one of the bats tho.

Jason is just unconsolable, blubbering about his coat missing, and Bruce absently remarking they can just buy a new one. It’s fine. Before his brain catches up to what Jason is actually saying and then it’s just— PANIC™️ 😭😂

[applejuicebegood]

The Softest of Jason Todd HCs

Fem!Reader A/N: Some of these were originally conceived for the lovely, talented, wonderful @midnightorchids. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FALLOW HER RIGHT NOW

Masterlist

Jason fell for you slowly. It was the kinda falling that took on the form of severe distraction and confusion during his patrol time. The only spot in his second life he had crafted into hours of precise control and expectancy. He hated how, as he was clicking a mag into his handgun, his mind would flash to your smiling, blushed face. He hated how you would unintentionally make him trip and stumble over the roof-tops of Gotham. He hated how recalling the chime of your laugh made his hands sweaty under his leather gloves. He hated how he had to take off his helmet in the seclusion of an abandoned wear-house because recalling how his hand slipped in to your on your last date made his face heat up to the point where he felt like he would pass out.

Once he realised that the nervous pounding in his gut whenever your shoulders brushed was in-fact caused from a growing crush on you, he panicked. The eventual confession was awkward and stumbled, him making it clear that he needed time and room to figure it out. He took your smaller hands into his, promising that no matter what, for now he would figure it out with you at his side. Of course you agreed, squeezing his hands in confirmation.

Ya'll are soulmates, period. Very big 'he is half of my soul' energy. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Your words have already been said by the other before you can string them together in your head. You share in each-others grief and rage. Five years into the relationship, Jason knew you so well (and being raised in a family of detectives) that you would never have to explain your frustration or annoyance - and on days like that he would always be ready to wrap you up in a weighted blanket, forcing a cup of raspberry tea into your cold hands and his headphones over your ears with one of his audiobooks already playing. Carrying you to your shared bed for you to fall asleep leaned up against his chest, his thick arms wrapped tightly around you.

Despite his availability of wealth and status, he keeps your date-night very low-key and personal. On his off days from Red-Hooding, both of you would have cooking nights. Where you would sway and giggle with the slow drift of music coming from the kitchen radio. You would make something hearty and filling. You wanting to see Jason sigh in the comfort of good food. You both would curl up with your steaming bowls on your couch, probably watching Tangled (at your request). It's all extremely cozy, Jason smiling into your skin as gratitude blooms in his chest for you. For having created this safe, hidden expanse of reassurance. All while the harsh Gotham wind whipped just outside your window.

This man is smitten- he worships you entirely. His is in awe of you, even as both of you grow old, his love and his care for you never relents or dwindles.

Ya'll would go to museums and art galleries and he would point at statues and paintings of goddess and queens and say 'you', under his breath. It's so horribly corny but it makes you hold his arm just a bit tighter every time.

After you both moved in together, he developed a habit of making your coffee alongside his and bringing it to you in bed in the mornings. This eventually just became your routine on weekends when you both had enough time to bask in the slow creeping of sunlight over each-others skin.

He's a romantic at heart, a part of him you had to slowly unearth under years of torment and blood. You were the one to force him out of his cave of isolation and into the reality of him deserving softness and joy. It's a dept you have assured him he doesn't need to pay back. That doesn't stop him from trying.

Giggles and smiles like a little boy if you kiss his forehead, specifically at the roots of his white streak. You think it's one of the prettiest things about him.

Unintentional scary dog when you guys are out together. He's got his hand laced with yours or floating somewhere on your hip or lower back. It's mostly due to his anxiety, constantly having his head on a swivel. It's all heightened due to the fact that he has the most precious, important individual standing next to him. Whether it's at one of his Dad's galla's or trips to the local library, he likes to have you near him.

Bitch has multiple playlists made about/for you (a lot of Noah Kahn and TV Girl)

Example:

A/N: I may be gay but I have a very special place for sappy Jason in my heart. Please send in any requests regarding our boy (or any of the bat boys or girls)- I really love writing for the people in this fandom.

[writing-mlm]

Hi, may I request a Tim Drake x male!reader story ? The reader is androgynous, has a rock/punk style, is a Japanese exorcist who dislikes heroes, and has an impulsive, shameless, and slightly paranoid personality. A fluff piece, please. Sorry for asking a lot, take care of yourself !

Stay for dinner-breakfast

Summary: Tim’s in a situationship with someone who hates heroes, this is just great. Pairing: Tim Drake x Male!Reader Wc: 3.8k tags/warnings: Japanese reader, way too many Blue Exorcist references, small demon fight

When most people familiar enough with demons or even the Justice League mention needing an exorcist, minds immediately go to the infamous John Constantine. The guy who managed to trick God and Satan, making himself nearly immortal. The guy who, admittedly, could probably control most demons with the flick of his cigarette.

Tim’s mind, however, wanders to a guy he met during his time abroad. When he had to do some Red Robin stuff that took him to Japan. He reminisces about it as if it was decades ago, in reality, it was two years ago. Hardly even two years, if he’s being honest. But he rarely is. 

While Bruce and Dick argue about whether or not they should call up John (the last time they did, Constantine ended up summoning more demons to deal with the initial demons and then blew up a building to get rid of the extra demons) (it cost Wayne Enterprises too much to justify asking that man for help again) Tim fishes out his phone. It doesn’t take him long to find the contact; it’s been what… a week since you’ve last spoken. He’s texted exactly three people within that week; Kon, Bart, and Jason. Jason because he wanted to know if he could join a drug bust he knew Jason had coming up. 

The answer was no. 

The phone rings as he spins in the chair, waiting until he hears that it’s connecting. Seriously, it’s already been three whole rings, what’s the hold-up?

“Whaddya want, hero boy?” You ask without looking down at the phone. Probably because you’re jumping from the ledge of a roof to a lamppost and then to the top of a vending machine. 

“You busy?” He asks, looking at the mole underneath your jaw. He hadn’t known that. Your head tilts from side to side as you make a noise. 

“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Glancing down at the phone, you wink and then pocket the phone. 

“There’s a demon in Gotham, could use the help.” He says, barely able to see as you’re fighting a demon. His eyes glance up at the contact name Okumura, unassuming to most because it is someone’s last name but to Tim, it’s so much more. 

He thought it was absolutely hilarious that you were an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother, and had the same hobbies as the anime where the main character is an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother. You didn’t think it was nearly as funny. The first time he mentioned it you kicked him from a rooftop— it was three stories, he was fine. 

“Like now?” You ask, picking your sword— just like the anime character, he’d gladly remind you— and cutting the demon in half with a mumbled but strong prayer. 

“Yes,” He nods, looking at the live feed of a demon messing up the finance district of Gotham. 

“Fine,” You grumble. “You’re lucky I finished my work for the day. See you in a minute.” 

“Kay, bye!” He hangs up and removes an earbud, calling for Bruce and Dick who haven’t stopped arguing. He wonders how they’d get anything done without him. They stop and look towards him as he waves his phone. “I have someone coming in for the demons.” He announces and Dick just hopes it’s not one of his friends from his YJ time. He cannot deal with those kids after finding out they watched Santa Claus get killed by a sentient meteor and then spent the next five months delivering gifts. 

“It isn’t Constantine, right?” Bruce asks, arms crossed and a disapproving glare ready to be plastered on his face. 

“That white man has nothing on me,” You chuckle, entering the Batcave through the door, spinning a set of skeleton keys on your index finger before putting them back into your pocket. Pointedly, Tim looks off to the wall with a see, anime guy look before turning back to the task at hand. 

“Who…?” Dick slowly asks while Bruce is having second thoughts about letting Tim back into the cave ever again.

“That’s Okumura,” He responds, standing up from the chair to greet you.

You’re wearing a pair of jorts— but the good kind, not the weird-looking ones— with hand-bleach-painted crosses on the leg, chunky beige leg warmers over a pair of shiny black loafers and an extremely large sweater that falls off your shoulder as you run down the stairs overtop a black turtleneck. 

There’s a pair of red shades on the top of your head, they curve at the top in a way that makes it look as though you have horns. Tim decides to not comment on the obvious joke he could make. But you can tell he wants to make it because of the glint in his eyes.

“Hello!” You nod without looking at them, too focused on not tripping over the steps, and give the group a small two-finger wave. “Tim calls me Okumura, it is not my name, though.” The hand that was doing the wave meets his hand and you do a funky little handshake before you look over at them for the first time. You frown, looking at their suits. It’s not even a frown, it’s damn near a scowl. You look at Tim who just shrugs; he would’ve thought you knew he was with his hero family.

“I’ll head out the demon; tell them not to follow me,” You tell Tim and he nods, sending you the location of the fight. While he does that, you look around for a different exit when you see his motorcycle parked, ready to go. “I’m stealing your motorbike again!” You call as you’re rushing over to it. 

“Kay!” He replies, head still buried in his phone. The motorcycle reeves to life as you jump on it; Bruce nearly stops you but the door to the cave is opening and you’re off faster than he can move. Slowly, he turns towards Tim with his arms crossed and a lecture waiting to happen.

“You better have a good explanation for that,” Bruce says once the door closes again. 

“That’s my exorcist friend,” He explains with a shrug. 

“You have friends outside of Kon?” Jason asks, a teasing tone to his voice but Tim can tell it genuinely surprised Dick. He doesn’t know if he should be hurt by that. 

“Yeah,” He shrugs. 

“And he’s an exorcist?” Bruce asks, looking at where the motorcycle once sat. He really hopes you don’t break it.

“Yup.”

“How did he get here so fast?” Dick asks, a little worried Tim was hiding a person in the manor.

“Funny story,” Tim smiles, looking up at them before looking down again, leaving them hanging. Jason grumbles, air strangling him while Bruce just sighs and looks back to the live feed. Thankfully you’d already arrived at the scene and to Tim and your credit, you’re dealing with the demons fairly easily. It’s surprising that your face is hidden from the public’s view, he hadn’t seen a mask but he also hadn’t seen the giant sword so. Probably some magic he won’t care about but probably should learn.

“Let’s go, fifteen Joker goons spotted around the site.” In a fluid motion, Tim puts his mask on and follows Bruce into the Batmobile. 

When Tim gets out of the car, he immediately finds you. You’re on top of a demon, riding it in the air while laughing and stabbing a nearby demon. He stops for a moment, wondering how you managed to wrangle a demon enough to sit on its back as if it were a horse. He then sees the knife in its head and he understands. He’s nearly jealous of the sight. 

Tim finally joins the others in the fight, narrowly avoiding the demons spawning from someplace he hasn’t found out yet. But you have, because you kill the flying horse demon and land softly behind Tim, cutting a demon away before it can sneak up on him. He shouts a thank you, pushing two goons back with his staff.

“I said no heroes!” You shout as you’re running past, heading towards a glowing manhole. How he hadn’t noticed it before; he won’t ever know. 

“Did he say no heroes?” Dick grunts, pushing back two goons that tried to jump him. 

“Yeah, he got issues with them.” Tim laughed before he was punched in the stomach by the goon he’d been fighting. He grumbles, holding the spot for a second before he knocks the goon out. “How many more are left?” He asks.

“Four,” Bruce says as he knocks out one of them. “Three.”

He goes to reply when there’s a loud explosion from the manhole and he looks over. Blue smoke rises out from the holes and he abandons trying to help the others fight the remaining goons in favor of finding you in the chaos. He doesn’t know what the smoke is but he assumes it’s some type of Joker Gas and he knows you’re not used to that. 

Putting a respirator on his face, he moves the manhole cover and jumps down. He squints into the blue fog, listening for noises but there’s a lot. There are hundreds of insect demons scurrying around him, hissing from the pipes, and he stops to really listen. He hears a string of coughs and follows it, the smoke getting thicker but he sees the faint outline of you lying on your back. 

“You don’ need a mask,” You huff, waving your hand in an attempt to move the smoke. “It is not poison.” 

“What is it?” He asks, removing the respirator as the smoke starts to clear, escaping up to the manhole. Your figure gets clearer, he can see your shirt and your hands resting on your stomach. 

“Spell,” You respond. “A… boobtrap for the talisman.”

“Boobytrap.” He corrects, putting the small device back into his pocket.

“That is what I said.” You blink, sitting up. He doesn’t fight you on that and helps you to your feet before he stops, hand still in yours. Now that you’re up close, he can really see you and when his eyes trail down, he inhales sharply and looks away.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” He says, covering his mouth with his free hand. 

“What? Did I get ugly? Do I look like you?” You ask, genuinely concerned as you pat your face but calm down when you feel your features. 

“Worse,” He grins and reaches around to grab your newly formed tail. “You really are Okumura now!” You shout, tugging at the tail only to wince because it’s connected to you. It only makes him laugh harder and you shout again, shaking him.

“This is not funny!” You tell him and then pause. “Thhhis,” You repeat and then cover your mouth. His eyebrows raise and, to his credit, he stops laughing. At least until you remove your hand and open your mouth, showing off the newly formed sharp canines. He barks a laugh and then pushes your hair away from your ear and you watch in horror as he spins on his heel to hide his expression. 

“You two okay down there?” Dick shouts from the top of the manhole.

“Fine!” Tim replies through his laugh. 

“That was one voice!”

“Fine!” You reply, even though you’re freaking out as your fingers trace over the suddenly sharp ears on your head. 

“I'm cursed!” You cry, dropping your head onto Tim’s shoulder, your ear nearly poking him in the eye. “This is your fault.” Pushing him away, you pick up your sword from the floor and resheath it with ease. “Never trust a hero,” You grunt, rushing over to the manhole.

“My fault?” He echos, following you out of the manhole. 

“You called me into your freaky city!” Climbing to the top of the manhole, you sit and kick his face. Not too hard, though. He shouts, holding his nose with one hand and the railing with the other. Standing up, you redo your hair over your ears and try to stuff the tail into your pants but it swings wildly and then wraps around something that’s behind you. 

When you look at what it was holding, you find it’s wrapped around Tim’s hand, helping him out of the manhole. 

“I think it likes you,” You grin despite yourself. 

“So, you like the tail?” He asks, checking his nose through the reflective metal of his staff. Thankfully his nose wasn’t broken, but it was throbbing in pain. Red on the end and he’s rubbing it with his free hand. You shrug, crossing your arms. 

“If it holds you like that,” Winking, he rolls his eyes under the mask and looks over at his family. Your eyes follow and you check your phone; there are no texts from anyone but you pretend that there are. 

“Wow, glad we settled that then.” He hums, smiling at you. 

“Mhmm, well, bye!” 

“Wait—“ He grabs the tail as you’re walking away and you grunt, eyes wide as you turn to look at him. Your eyes dart to and from the tail, watching as his fingers absentmindedly play with the soft furs on the end. “Stay for dinner, you did say I owed you.” When you first met, you’d gotten a glorious dinner and he ran into you, spilling it right into a sewer drain. You still think about that day and get upset. 

“Is it…” You cringe as you can’t find the right word. “American food?” He chuckles, remembering the countless videos you’ve sent him with angry and crying emojis. Hotdogs in jello, white bread soaked in water, mashed potatoes made out of potato chips, and boiled plain, unseasoned chicken with unwashed white rice.

“It’s not the American food you sent me.” He promises. “It’s good, I like it.” Your face scrunches as that’s not much to go off of; the man drinks Monster Energy’s like it's water. You’re sure it’s melted off his taste buds at this point.

“But you also like the vending machine cakes.” 

“It was good.” He defends. “But this is really good, trust me?”

“I wasn’t invited by B,” You glance over at the scowling Batman and glare back. Tim grabs your face, turning you to look back at him. You smile at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter and he clears his throat, dropping his hand. 

“Ugh! B, can he stay for dinner?” He asks, pressing his finger against his earpiece. 

“No.”

“He said yes,” He smiles and you struggle to still say no to him.

“I have to speak to the council about this—“ You gesture to your newly formed tail and ears. “Raincheck.”

Tim sighs but relents. 

“We’ll make your favorite next time; as a thank you.” He promises and you nod, waving before jogging up to a random door. The team watches as you pull out the keys and open the door, showing the headquarters of the council you work for. You wave again, your tail waving along before the door closes. 

“Better than Constantine,” Jason says as he looks at the ash on the ground. 

—

“That skirt does not go with that shirt,” Damian stops at Tim’s door, blinking at the oak door as Tim laughs. “I regret buying you VIP and custom makeup,” Now, Damian’s no idiot. He has friends and Jon, much to his chagrin, has gotten him into Roblox. So he knows very well that Tim is talking about Dress to Impress. 

“What? It looks cute!” Another voice defends, a voice that isn’t one he’s familiar with. He’d assumed Tim was talking to Kon, maybe Bart, or even himself. “You’re the one wearing a neon green fur hat when the theme is Victorian!” Carefully, he grabs onto the brass doorknob, pressing his other hand to the door and slowly turns it. 

“It’s camp,” Tim replies. He’s sitting on his bed with his legs crossed and laptop perched between them. Regrettably, he’s in an old band t-shirt and sweats; not company attire Damian would later remark. Across from him, sitting with their back to the door, Damian stares at the dangling sword earrings and then the tattered Eastern Youth shirt overtop a pair of leather pants. But his focus is on the tail swishing back and forth. 

“It’s ugly, just like your face,” You remark. Tim smiles, still looking down at his laptop, and moves his leg to kick you. You grab his ankle before he can and extend his leg, tossing your own over it. He shifts so both his legs are out and you naturally sit with your legs intertwined. 

Damian turns his nose up and leaves the room, the door softly locking behind him. 

“Pretty sure you weren’t saying that earlier,” Tim chides after the door had closed, watching as Damian’s footsteps leave from his door. 

“I did,” You hum, showing how you’d gotten first place and he’d gotten dead last. He rolls his eyes, leaves the game, and turns off your iPad. Next time he’ll just rig the game, clearly, the lobby didn’t understand his vision. 

“You should stay for dinner,” Your face contorts at the idea and you scoot closer to him until your ankles reach his back and his knees are at your ribs. “They’re not bad, not right now, at least.” He adds, messing with your studded belt. 

“I don’t like heroes, Tim,” You remind him. He frowns, eyes meeting your own. “And Bruce definitely will not welcome me after the curse,” Right, the whole demon curse. His eyes move to your tail that’s now wrapping around his left leg, the soft hairs brushing against his calf. While you’re not wrong, Bruce would have a heart attack if Tim was caught letting a demon (it's temporary, the council assured you) inside his house. 

“Fuck what Bruce has to say; I have my place! I run the company now, too,” He shrugs. 

“So why are we at the manor?” You tilt your head and he shrugs again. 

“Alfred offered to make my favorite for dinner because I haven’t visited since the whole demon thing.” You tut, leaning forward so your head rests on his chest. He looks at your awkwardly folded pose and pushes your legs. Getting the hint, you lift yourself and fold your legs underneath you. He lays his head on top of yours, using his phone behind your back. 

The two of you sit in silence until your legs go numb and you turn around, now watching as he scrolls through his socials. He shifts so one arm holds you close and locks his legs over yours while you hold his hand. 

Now, despite how it may look, you and Tim were not in a relationship. Nearly, you’ll both admit that much. But nothing that ever surpassed longing glances and touching that lasted far too long for the two of you to simply be friends. 

And that was for one simple reason.

Tim was a hero. 

You don’t hate heroes, simply a strong dislike towards them. For a multitude of reasons, enough for a twenty-page paper. Tim would know, he had you make one when you first rejected him. You don’t really trust them, all of them except for Tim. And maybe his strange friend Kon, but that’s about it. All of the rest can leave you the hell alone. 

Your phone buzzes and you spare it a glance; a call from your superior. 

“I gotta go,” You tell him but make no move to leave. He just hums, still scrolling on his phone. “There’s probably an attack and I’m needed.”

“That’s crazy,” He mutters, showing you a video of a cat lying down in an empty fishbowl. 

“And Alfred will probably come up soon,” The time is around when dinner is usually ready.

“Probably,” He agrees. Your phone starts ringing again and you stare at it. 

“I really should be going,” 

“You really shouldn’t.” He drops his phone to hold you with both arms.

“I’ll get in trouble,” You look up at him and he just blinks. “They’ll take my keys away.” He relents and lets you stand but you don’t move. He raises an eyebrow and you smile before flicking him with your tail and getting up. 

He spluttered at the hairs, wiping his mouth as you shoved your feet into your boots. 

“See you,” You wave before opening his bedroom door to your boss's room. He sees the woman sitting on the edge of her desk, dangling her phone. She sees him and you quickly shut the door. 

Flopping onto his back, Tim runs his hands down his face and stares at the ceiling. He rolls over and looks down at your iPad, deciding he’ll just keep it until you notice it’s gone.

—

“Still have an issue with me being a hero?” Tim asks as you’re cooking in his apartment. You’re making breakfast for dinner, considering he’d come back at three in the morning and you’d skipped breakfast in favor of dealing with some demons terrorizing school.

“Yes, Tim.” You reply, setting a third pancake onto the plate. He leans against your back, staring at the side of your face while making sure to be careful of your sharp ear. Your tail pulls him closer and he snickers. “The tail has nothing to do with me,” You grumble, side-glancing at him. 

“Even if I say pretty please?” He bats his long eyelashes, making sure that they tickle your face. 

“You’re making a very convincing argument,” You laugh, pushing his face away. With a small snicker, he pulls his face and adjusts his grip on you. Tim sighs into your shoulder and then steals a piece of bacon, narrowly avoiding the slap from the spatula.

“Can I just be the one hero you like?” He hops onto the counter, watching as you continue to cook. 

“You already are,” You watch from the corner of your eye as he flicks his hair out of his face, studying you. He watches you for another minute or two, offering up forks when it’s time to plate the food. He’s clearly thinking as he pours the cups of juice, smiling while he jumps back on the counter before he eventually speaks up. 

“Can I take you on a date, then?” He asks, eyes flickering from the last pancake to your face. Pausing mid-flip, you shrug. Taking a moment to think about it, Tim watches as your tail slowly moves side to side before it settles on the back of the couch.

“It would be faster if you just kissed me, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle and his eyebrows raise. 

“You’re telling me all of this could’ve been avoided with… a kiss?” He slowly asks and you nod, turning the fire off and then moving to be in front of him. He reaches for you, his fingers curling under your jaw as you stare up at him. Opening his legs, you sit between them and mess with the hair around his face. 

“I just wanted to see some initiative,” You hum and he rolls his eyes before crashing his lips into yours.

[igotanidea]

five more minutes: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

I'm (not) sorry, but that smug face fits right into this fanfiction!!

request/summary: Dick getting clingy when the reader needs to go somewhere

A/N: so, I think I'm back? Two weeks break and I'm getting into the swing of things again, so please go easy on me with this story......

***

When she wakes up in the morning something seems off almost instantly.

It only takes a second to realise that said thing took the form of Dick Grayson, her beloved boyfriend, the man by day and the fearless vigilante by night. The protector of Gotham and its people.

Well, if only the people could see him now.

Sleeping in a weird position with the imprint of the pillow on his cheek, messy hair and some dried saliva in the corner of his mouth.

He so cute and adorable like that. Y/N does the quick scan of his face and body in the search for any injuries he might have obtained during the patrol but her heart rests easy when she noticed him being all in one piece with no blood or stiches. Either it was a quiet and peaceful night or he already took care of himself. Her bets are the latter, but since it’s work day she doesn’t really have any time to wait until he wakes up to blame him for not being careful.

As quiet and swift as she can, Y/N tries to move out of bed, but since Dick’s senses are heightened she doesn’t really get far, when his arms wraps around her, keeping her in place.

“Dick……” she mutters

“Mhmmmm……” he mumbles into the pillow

“Come on, I have get  up!”

“no you don’t.”

“I gotta get to work!”

“I’m the only work you need……” he grins, still half-asleep, but so full of himself and she almost rolls her eyes at the joke

“God, please stop…. I need to earn money you know? Not all of us have a billionaire daddy!”

“You’re dating the billionaire oldest son, isn’t that enough?”

She wonders for a moment. On a second thought maybe it is. Dick seems to use that heartbeat of hesitation, shifting his body weight on her, pinning her to bed, his eyes still closed, but this little shit knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Dick!” she gasps feeling all those muscles crush her “shit!

“I like it when you call my name in such a desperate words. Do it just one more time and the neighbours will hate you forever.” He chuckles and his makes her skin tingle.

You’re heavy…..” she squirms trying to break free, but it’s no use. “You brought it on yourself….” The girl mutters poking on his ribs in the place where he’s extremely sensitive because of an old injury.

“Hey!” he yells, trying to defend himself and letting go off her in the process.

Y/N is quick to jump out of bed and rush towards her wardrobe, grabbing her jeans and t-shirt and struggling to put them on.

“Not so fast!” Dick tears her clothes from her hands and holds them high out of reach.

“Not fair Grayson!”

“You called me fat.”

“I called you heavy!’

“Same thing!”

“It’s not….. You know what, fine. I’ll just wear something else….” She shrugs and runs towards the drawer, but before she could reach it Dick grabs her from behind and holds her tight to him

“Dick…….” She whines stretching out just to grab something to wear. Anything.

“I know. I’m irresistible.”

“A pain in the ass is what you are!”

“I can make you breakfast….” He tempts

“You’re not Jason, Dick. Making me breakfast means putting cereals In the bowl and poring some milk over it in your dictionary. Cold milk. And that is only if I bought both cereals and milk.”

“did you?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Can’t you see how hard I’m trying? Just for you. Come on, you are like an employee  of the month. Or even a year. Stay…..” he kisses her neck playfully “you can call in sick.”

“I used all my sick days because of you.”

“How about casual leave?”

“and what may be the emergency?” she sighs in defeat, her body going limp as she drops the fighting knowing well enough she won’t win it. “Clingy boyfriend?”

“You called me boyfriend!” he grins again and she facepalms herself.

“We’ve been together for a year Dick. Why do you seem surprised?”

“I could never get bored with hearing that word from you. Makes me proud that you’re mine.”

“trying to sweet talk me? Won’t work. By the way, you are soooooo cheesy Grayson.”

“And?” he asks

“ And? What and?”  at this point Y/N is confused, her eyebrows furrowing as she turns to meet his gaze

“And you love me?” he insist, spinning her around in his arms so that he can get easy access to her kissable face.

“Yeah…..” she smiles dreamily “yeah, I do love you, you idiot” she trails with a love sick puppy expression. But it doesn’t mean I’m gonna stay and be you babysi…..ah! Put me down!” she yells suddenly feeling her body lift of the ground without her knowledge or will. “Put me down Grayson! What are you……?! Damn it…!”

Dick does not listen or does not get impressed by her poor attempts to break free. He’s Nightwing. He’s got so many ways to immobilise the opponent. Or, in this case, lover.

“Dick I swear I am going to kick your ass if you don’t….!” the threat dies on her lips as he throws her onto the mattress and kisses her softly shutting her up in the process.

“Stay?” he pouts looking at her with those pretty doe eyes “Pretty please?”

“You act like a five year old!”

“A five year old that wants you. A five year old that misses you…”

“I’ll be back, you know……” she brush the strand of hair from his face. She’s already gone but still tries to keep the appearances.

“Yeah, at 6 p.m. or later. It’s almost the time when I get ready for my night shift…… Please…..”he whines nuzzling his nose over her neck “stay…..”

“please…..” she mimics his whining, caressing his cheek “let me go……”

“But I need you…….” He hide his face in her belly and his hair tickle

“Why do you always need me when I am supposed to go to work?’

“It’s a terrible and uncontrollable disease…..” he laughs

“Is there a cure?” she laughs back

“I can think of something….” He closes the gap between them, nibbling on her bottom lip. “and it may be working…. But I;m not sure. Need some more testing” he repeats his action. “Mhm, yes, it’s definitely working… You don’t want me to be sick, do you?”

“Not really. You are whiny and attention seeker when you are sick.”

“I am not!” he shouts in denial “ok, maybe I am. A little. But come on, you can stay some more time with me…��”

“How long, dickie?” she smiles at him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“five more minutes?”

“ok. Five more minutes. She sighs deeply, letting go of any of her objections, letting Dick lay beside her and act like a big spoon, while holding her tight to his chest and caressing her sides and belly.

“You’re not letting me go, are you?” she whispers closing her eyes and getting lost in his touch.

“Never.”

And she’s pretty sure she can live with that.  

[mrsmnsn]

“Will you forgive me, please?”

Warnings: angst; eddie and reader are in a one year relationship; reader almost burst from stress; verbal fight; happy ending (the only right way, cuz i can’t stand when it ends sadly:)), no use of y/n (she is referred as sweetie/sweetheart), let me know if i’m missing something something

wc: 1.9k

summary: Reader is going crazy with how much is going on on her life. Studying for the final exams, work with terrible people. But on a weekend, when Eddie comes without warning you, you both fought for the first time in your relationship.

Being Eddie's girlfriend was the best part of your life. You loved him and the way he treated you. You've been together for a year now and, between this time, you got to know all sides of him. Goofy, funny, kind, sexy. But you've never seen him get mad. Pissed? Of course! All the time, he would be complaining about things or cursing other people who were assholes with him. But he was never mad, at least not with you.

But there was one specific time when you were having a terrible week. With the final exams, not to mention you mentoring other students, you were one step away from losing it. And there was your boss giving you the same speech all week because one of your co-workers snitched you for kissing your boyfriend at work. It was just a smooch!

"This girl's a bitch. Probably never touched a dick in her life!" That's what Eddie said to you.

But, by the end of the week, you were on edge. And being busy all the time, you never got the chance to spend a single minute with your boyfriend. But he would have to wait, the finals were more important now. Eddie didn't seem to agree. He showed up at your door with movies in his hands.

"Hey sweetie, i'm sorry i'm a little late. Had to kick some ass to get out of Family Video" You just hummed, trying to understand what was wrong with your calculus. "I'm great, thanks for asking!"

On his way he, unfortunately, met Jason at the same place. He didn't actually fought him, just some heated exchange of words. It got him a little pissed, but he was going to spend the night with you, so he pretended that he was fine. He was hoping that you would make him feel better.

"Eddie you can put the movie, i don't mind, but i'll not pay attention. I really need to review this"

"Yeah sweetheart, whatever you say" Of course. He was not listening, looking for some candies in your cabinet.

He sat by your side and kept talking to you. You were trying so hard not to cut him off, you really missed him, but you couldn't allow yourself that privilege of five minutes making out with him. So by the end of the first movie he brought, he started to say some curious facts about it but you let out a groan. "Fuck. Why physics were so hard?” You thought to yourself.

"Alright, stop. What the fuck? I've be trying to talk to you for the whole week, but you were too busy. Now that is your time to relax you're going to keep studying?" He said with a serious tone. At first you were quiet, waiting for him to calm down so you would not fight. But he said, louder this time "Say something, damn it!"

"What do you want me to say Eddie? I need to-" you were cut out

"Please, don't you think you studied enough? The whole week, is all you've been doing. You’re gonna burst into flames from thinking too much."He was now facing you, your book long forgotten as the both of you started to lose it.

"Well, for some of us, the constancy is required! I am not doing very good in this subject. I'm just trying to do my best and you should be doing the same." He shifted his body and giggled in a sarcastic way.

"Oh yes, let's remember that i was held back. So original. That's very dirty bellow the belt of you sweetheart." His facial expression was full of disappointment and anger.

"Can you not contort my words? I said as you should be doing your best too so you don't get held back again!" You regretted the time you said it. It was dirty of you and his eyes were not looking into yours anymore. "I know i was not very present this week, but can't you just wait 'till the goddamn exams to end. I don't know what happened for you be so rude but you shouldn't be taking it out on me!"

He was not looking at you, fidgeting with his rings, thinking of the right thing to say so you could stop fighting.

"All i wanted was to spend time with you, what the fuck is wrong with that?"

"There's nothing wrong, is just that i told you that i needed to get good at this."

"That's the fucking point, there's nothing to get better at, you've been working on it for so long, there is nothing new to see! Fuck, you’re not even answering when i talked to you."

"Stop being fucking dramatic Eddie! Do you think i like this, the way that i'm on the edge right now? Fighting with my boyfriend and friends, not having a fucking second to breathe because it feels like everything i do is wrong?"

"And i am the one dramatic. Let me give you a heads up. It's not the end of the fucking world if you fail a test. Besides, you couldn't do it even if you tried. You had to have sucked in the other tests to be held back, like me."

"Oh my god! Why don't you grow up a little and see how this is important to me? Look, we both are angry for some reason and are not in conditions to talk. I think is the best for the both of you for you to leave. So we don't hurt ourselves anymore."

"You always have to be so good and solve every damn problem, right? Only so in the end i can be the bad guy. Honestly, why are you the one to say what we should or shouldn't do?"

"Because it's my fucking house and i want you to leave!"

At this point, after wrestling and yelling at each other, you were with tears in your eyes panting without knowing what to do. Eddie gulped, stepped back and, not saying a word, he left.

The tears were rolling down your cheeks. Now there was no way you would focus on physics. You regretted so much. All the words said in the heat of the moment. You didn't mean any of them. And he probably didn't. You both said things to hurt each other in order to be right. Eddie was definitely upset about something, not just the lack of your attention. But now was not the time to find out.

——————

After a week, you finish every school exam and were finally free from school. And back in work, your co-worker was fired. She was caught fucking a random guy that you didn’t know on the boss’s office . “Guess Eddie was wrong” you thought giggling but getting upset the second after. You both have been avoiding each other. Eddie didn’t want to bother you and you didn’t want to hurt him. But it was time. You were tired of tearing up every time you remembered your fight.

So, at the end of your shift, you drove to the trailer park. It was the first time you fought and you hated. The feeling was that, at any second, you would lose him.

Knocking at his door, you stood there, waiting for him.

“Coming.” You heard his muffled voice. When he opened the door, he had an annoyed expression that shifted to a concerned one once he saw it was you. He was shirtless, wet hair and sweatpants that hung low on his hips. You didn’t know if it was because of the long week not seeing him, but he looked incredibly handsome. “Hey” It was the only thing he could say, surprised by your appearance.

“Hi… Can we talk.” You said hesitant, not knowing where to start.

“Sure. Please” He opened the door wider letting you in. Guiding you on the couch, where you both sat in awkward silence. It didn’t even look like you two were together for a long time. “I assume you’re here to talk about last weekend.” You nodded trying your best not to cry already which was really hard because of the way he looked at you.

“Look Eddie, i don’t even know where to start. We both lost our senses and said terrible things we shouldn’t. I honestly feel like-“ A feeling you grew accustomed in the past week grew in your throat. You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “I felt like i was losing my mind and that everything i was doing was wrong. You were right. I was taking too much at once and i couldn’t take it.”

“No no no. Sweetheart, i was the wrong one. I was worried about you and my own shit and i put that on your shoulders.” He said whipping your cheeks. “And as i usually do, to run away from my problems, i pretended that none of that was happening and didn’t realize how important studying was for you. I am truly sorry for that and for the fight.”

You hugged him tightly. His hands surrounded your waist and his nose nestled on your neck, sniffing your sent. He’d missed you deeply. “I’m sorry too” you said softly and moving away just enough to see his face. “I just want you to know that i don’t meant shit from what i’ve said. That was awful of me. I felt awful. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Of course i forgive you, sweetie. I was supposed to be the one apologizing. I also didn’t mean any of that crap. You forgive me too?” He said giving you a smirk that made you giggle.

“Yes. But only if you tell me why you were so worked up that night.”

“Oh shit, you’re right. My week was not great either. You know how much i hate finals. Before going to yours, i stopped at Family Video and i met with Jason Carver. And well, you know the story, he calls me a freak and i pretend that he hurt my feelings. But that night, he started to talk shit about us, like you were way out of my league. And until then i was like, tell me something i don’t know. But then the son of a bitch called you a whore and that you probably sold yourself for one fuck in exchange for a review of any subject. And i was like “what the fuck dude?”. I just lost my mind. Thank the metal gods that Steve stopped me from beating his face.”

“Oh my god! You could have told me” You don’t even know why you said that. You literally fought because you were too into your studies.

“It’s alright. He normally doesn’t piss me off. But I just can’t accept him talking shit about you. As if he knew you enough to call you a whore.”

The good thing is that you got back to normal and cuddled for the rest of the day. Eddie wanted to stay close to you as much as he could, so he asked begged for you to stay over. So here you were, before going to sleep telling how much you loved each other.

“Good night baby” Even in the dark room, you could see his beautiful eyes looking at you with so much love

“Good night Eds” Closing your eyes ready to sleep, felling your man’s hand caressing you, you were sure that you were in heaven. Out of the sudden you remembered.

“Eds!” You turned fast to him scaring him a little “You won’t believe what happened.”

“What?” Poor man, he was half asleep. You giggled at his confused face.

“Apparently, that girl from work did a lot more than touching dick…”

“I told you she was a bitch. A man knows”

“Shut up”

*if you have any ideas/request/sugestions; please sent it to me, my inbox is open. :)

[reidsaurora]

"Overnight" ~ S. Reid

Summary: When Spencer offers to clear out a drawer for Y/N in his dresser, it has him explaining some things he'd been hiding from her.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader (i think? i don't remember using pronouns in this lol)

Word Count: 814 why is she so short

Content Warning: allusions to sex but nothing in detail, mild mentions of nudity i guess, this whole fic is basically aftercare lol, lmk if i missed anything!

Genre: Fluff, what else did you expect out of me?

Extra Notes: i truly meant for this to be posted on time, i'm so sorry guys

Based On the Prompt: "The Things In That Drawer" from this year's @domaystic prompts

Originally Written: 05/08/2023

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold (i love you literally so much)

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Nothing could get Spencer Reid in a sappy mood like a night of slow, passionate sex. Something about moments like these—the way he showered you in kisses, the sweet compliments he'd give you, the love he'd show you—just felt right. Like his embrace was exactly where you needed to be.

Spencer's hand settled on the soft skin of your hip, drawing various shapes with his fingertips. Your head rested against his chest, your hand moving up to his tummy. He placed a soft kiss on your hair, the scruff of his five-o'clock shadow scratching against your forehead lightly. "I love nights like this," he told you.

You craned your head to face him, kissing his cheek. "I do too. I just hate that it always ends so quickly," you said, thinking about the work nights where you had to head home early, not quite ready for the night to end but knowing that you needed to go home for a change of clothes.

"You know," he said, pausing to flip the two of you over, his body hovering over you, "I could always clear a couple drawers out for you."

Your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. You'd been hinting at the idea for a while, lamenting about needing fresh panties or complaining about missing your skincare regimen. But Spencer hadn't seemed quite ready to take that step yet, so you didn't pressure him.

"Wait, are you serious?"

He nodded, bending down to kiss you on the lips this time. "I'll even let you pick out which one you want."

You practically pushed him into the floor as you jumped up. Spencer chuckled as you ran over to the dresser, pulling his boxers back on.

You pulled out the second drawer, where you knew his tee shirts were, grabbed one of his giant ones and tossed it on. "Any of them?"

"Mhm," he hummed, walking over and settling his hands on your waist. "Whichever one you want."

You considered it, eventually deciding on the bottom drawer. "What about-"

"Wait, Y/N, don't-" he shouted, reaching out to stop your hand.

He was too late, though. You pulled open the drawer, revealing an entire drawer of nerdy memorabilia. The lightsaber was the first thing that caught your eye, followed by a sonic screwdriver, and a couple geeky Pop Figures, among other things.

"You have a lightsaber," you examined.

Spencer scratched awkwardly at his neck. "Yeah, I guess I do."

You grabbed the lightsaber from the drawer, your face lighting up as you turned it on. "You have a lightsaber!"

He chuckled as you poked him in the ribs with the lightsaber. "You're having too much fun with this."

You set the lightsaber down on top of the dresser, turning back to the drawer. Next, you pulled out the infamous Jason Voorhees mask, holding it in front of your face. "Please tell me you've scared your coworkers with this."

Spencer let out another chuckle, taking the mask from your hands. "I got Morgan with it one time. He nearly choked on his coffee."

You continued snooping through the drawers, sifting through Polaroids of Spencer and his friend Penelope at various conventions, some D.C. comics, and a couple signed posters. Your heart nearly flipped when you spotted a picture of him dressed as the Joker. "Who did your face paint?"

"You're loving this, aren't you?"

A squeal escaped your lips as you threw your arms over his shoulders. "Spence, this is adorable! Why would you hide this from me?"

He sighed, somewhere between relieved and exasperated. "I didn't want you to think I was weird. I mean, I'm a grown man and I have a collection of legos and Batman comics?"

"Spencer, I think it's cute that you have something you love so much. You don't have to be afraid to show how much you love and support it."

He bent forward to kiss you again, pulling your body flush against his. "You really mean that?"

"I mean, any man that has the balls to wear makeup like that in public is sexy in my book," you kidded.

Spencer diverted your attention back to the drawer, pointing his chin toward the dresser. "Is that really the drawer you want?"

"Does it come with all the nerdy memorabilia?" you teased, poking his chest.

"In your dreams. I spent good money on those things." He rolled his eyes, leading you to the bathroom. His hands were warm and big on your bare skin, the feeling absolutely heavenly. He placed a trail of kisses along your shoulder up to your head before hooking his chin over your shoulder.

You lifted your head to face him, kissing his jaw. "Hey, does this mean we can go as the Joker and Harley Quinn for Halloween?"

"You know what? I think that might just be something out of my dreams."

-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @wwwonzeee @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose

[luciaintheskyainthi]

Happy new years! Even if it's still 2024 for me <3

If for some reason Tony could meet the batfamily and Jason, how would their reunion turn out? (Besides all the trauma)

I really wanted to see how this would unfold.

Like Tony (*technically* peter's overprotective father figure) and Jason (the older boyfriend, associated with crime and literally everything Tony would disapprove of) trying to have a peaceful dinner for the sake of the person they love.

Happy new years to you too! This is a great question, getting me to think about father figures!

Perhaps a controversial opinion, but I actually think MCU Peter would have been closer to Happy than to Tony Stark!

Peter definitely idolises Tony Stark, but it's very much hero worship, and I don't think they really got the chance to become close in the same way he would have had the opportunity to have with Happy, who took both May and Peter in after the fallout of Quentin Beck, even after May broke up with him. That's goated behaviour (a little part of my millennial soul died saying that lol).

Sure, there's evidence of Tony and Peter interacting, and arguably Tony's entire reason for risking everything after the Snap was a desire to bring Peter back, but it could be argued that this came down to guilt and five years of rose-tinted glasses over the times they did spend together. Peter's presence in Tony's life is also what probably made Tony open up to the idea of having a child of his own, so yeah, if he did come back, there's a chance Tony would want to take a more active and fatherly role in Peter's life.

But the way things actually turned out? It's Happy all the way. However, similar to Tony, I don't think Peter was ready to see Happy in that way until after the events of NWH. A throwback to Uncle Ben. Hero-worshipping Tony Stark was safe: he was practically a new god and therefore untouchable. No chance of the Parker curse getting him... But Happy? He was just 'some guy'. And looking at 'some guy' with father-tinted glasses was far more dangerous to Peter Parker.

To get to the meat of your question though! Be it Happy or Tony, they would definitely be disapproving lol. Tony more than Happy, I imagine. But it's not as if Tony's got clean hands, pre or post-Iron Man.

In regards to Happy, consider: having worked with Tony for many years, Happy enabled Tony's wild behaviour before he eventually settled down as Iron Man. How many women many years younger than Tony would he have allowed to pass through those doors? And he was his driver/body guard/head of security, so it's not as if he's averse to killing either.

With all that in mind, here's how I'd imagine things would go down with Tony:

Tony: I don't approve of you (Jason) because you're a criminal and a murderer and also too old (and therefore I'm going to be an ass and not call you by your name).

Jason: Oh, cool, the former warlord who profited off the blood of thousands doesn't approve of me. Hey, did you know that there's no ethical way to be a billionaire? Where'd all those billions come from? Oh, that's right! All those weapons you equipped the military-industrial complex with! Viva la imperialism!

Tony: ... (Has no good rebuttal for this)... Your father is literally a billionaire.

Jason: estranged, but yep. And I steal from him all the time. But please, tell me more, weapons manufacturer, about how you're so much better than me.

Peter: this was a mistake

Jason: and speaking of too old, why don't you tell us about all your sexual conquests huh? You're telling me all the men and women you've slept with have always been your age? There's only five years between Pete and I, you saying that's the biggest gap you've had?

Peter: please make it stop.

At some point, it devolves into a brawl that Peter has to break up and he tears into both of them. It's a long time before they're allowed to spend time together again, and NEVER unsupervised.

If it was Happy, Jason would probably be a lot more respectful. They'd both give each other shit, it would probably also devolve into a fistfight at some point (Happy is such a posturer), but there'd be a hell of a lot less vitriol from Jason towards him. It'd be defensive anger, not the contempt he'd have for someone like Tony Stark acting like he's better than Jason.

I can see a reluctant truce develop between the Happy and Jason, with the odd snipe, but otherwise relatively peaceful. And heaven help anyone who hurt Peter if the two of them were involved.

Does any of this mean I don't love Iron Dad fics? Hell no! Chasing the Iron Dad trope is what led me to the Spider-Man in Gotham fandom in the first place (I was looking at the 'homeless Peter Parker' tag and came across Dark Matter and fell down the rabbit hole like the rest of you)! But in the world of ECM, I don't think Iron Dad is how things actually went down.

Hope that doesn't disappoint! LBR though it probably does lol

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: following their fellow hero’s death, the remaining seven have to face their decade long feud at the grave.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: heroes of olympus x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

The last thing any of them wanted was to go to the funeral. It wasn’t that they didn’t care; to say that would be the biggest lie any of them would say. No, they didn’t want to show up because the grief they felt was too great. Y/N shouldn’t have died, not when each of them had unsaid words to say to her.

Yet each demigod sucked up their sadness, dressed as nice as they could, and made their way back to Camp Halfblood, where Y/N was to be honored that evening.

It’d been seven years since the Second Giant War, and five years since any of them had met face to face (the exception was Percy and Annabeth, who'd gotten married just before the seven’s falling out). The great heroes of Olympus were nothing but a campfire tale at this point.

Jason was the first to arrive. Silently he stood at her grave, his throat burning with the floodgate of tears he held back. Years ago, when he’d first arrived at Camp Halfblood with no memory of his old life, he found Y/N sitting here with a book.

He’d learned very quickly that it wasn’t smart to disturb her when she was reading…

Under the shade of the big oak tree sat a girl, all alone save for an open book. While the other campers hung out with their siblings and friends, playing varying games and sports, she seemed perfectly content under her tree.

He wasn’t trying to be a creep, but Jason couldn’t help but watch her from afar. He’d seen her in action during last week's capture the flag game. Y/N had scared the shit out of him when she’d come running at him with a sword; Looking back on it, Jason swore he saw death in her eyes.

So when Jason found the angry warrior girl who’d almost skinned him alive trying to get his team's flag looking so peaceful with her nose in a book, he became curious of her.

Annabeth was quick to warn him against going up to her. After he insisted on getting to know her, she grinned and said, “Fine, it’s your death wish.”

It turned out that she was right. 

“Umm, hi. You’re Y/N, right?” Jason asked when he was standing in front of her. She wasn’t quick to look up from her book, an eyebrow raised as she sized him up.

“Yeah,” she said, unenthused. “And you are?”

“Jason Grace.”

“Ah. Son of Zeus. I’ve heard about you,” she said, her eyes drifting back to her book for a moment. “Is there something you need?”

The boy scratched at his neck, trying to look casual and not terribly awkward. “Not really. I just remembered you from the game last Friday. You almost maimed me.”

A small grin pulled at the girl’s face, but still, she seemed eager for him to leave her alone. “That was you? Heh, sorry. I’m a tad bit competitive.”

He was about to compliment her sword skills when the grin fell from her face and she looked back to her book. “Listen, you seem nice, but I’m kinda busy in case you can’t tell. Please leave me alone. Thanks.”

And that was the end of that conversation. The next time he held a conversation with her was after his quest to free Juno. She was certainly more kind when she wasn’t in the middle of reading, that was for sure.

The more he got to know her, the more he appreciated her love of books. On more than one occasion some random fact from a seemingly irrelevant fantasy novel saved their asses. 

Sighing deeply, Jason rested a blue flower that he’d picked earlier on top of her headstone. He sat down in front of it, finally allowing himself to cry over the loss of his dear friend. 

Next was Percy and Annabeth. 

Hand in hand, they approached the site. It was on the edge of camp, on a hillside that looked over the cabins. It was surrounded by trees, and Y/N’s favorite flowers were planted all around. 

Annabeth stopped at the treeline, her eyes landing on the headstone, and the blond boy kneeling next to it with his head in his hands. She’d told herself she wasn’t going to cry, that she’d cried enough, that crying wouldn’t change the fact that she was gone.

But then, the burning in her throat grew all so worse. Her Hand flew to her mouth, and she choked on a sob. Percy turned, her stationary figure tugging him back. Jason’s head snapped up, his eyes widening upon seeing the two standing there.

He wiped at his face, but his bloodshot eyes gave away that he’d been crying too. The silence was thick, mixing with the surrounding humidity, making the air difficult to breathe. 

It’d been some time since they’d crossed paths. “Hey.”

Percy nodded. “Hey.”

Another sob choked Annabeth as she ducked her chin. “Oh, shut up! We’re awful people.”

Jason and Percy turned to her, shocked by her outburst as tears trailed down her cheeks. “What?”

“Every last one of us,” she cried. “She was the only one who tried to keep everyone friends, who could stand to be the voice of reason! And we all... we all abandoned her just because of a stupid argument!”

Before anyone could respond, the wind picked up, blowing their hair all around. Jason looked up, and his throat went dry at the sight of a giant bronze dragon lowering form the sky.

Leo and Piper appeared on its back, both solemn and silent as the dragon landed and they slid to the ground. Piper locked eyes with him, and she nodded without a word. 

Annabeth just turned around, wiping furiously at her face. Meanwhile, Leo stared gaping at the grave, as though he hadn’t really expected it to be there. “She’s...”

“Yeah,” Jason snapped. “Yeah. She’s gone.”

Piper shot him a nasty glare as Leo recoiled into himself. “Back off.”

“Listen, I’m just--”

“You’re just not. Okay? Shut the hell up.”

The daughter of Athena whirled around and pointed form Piper to Jason, silencing them in an instant. “We are not bringing this here, to her grave.”

No one dared to bite back. Percy rubbed circles into her shoulders, hoping it helped.

Next thing any of them knew, another figure appeared, closely followed by another. Frank and Hazel, walking at least seven feet apart from each other in awkward silence. 

Hazel’s eyes made it to the headstone, and she lost all her breath. Her knees started to give out, and Leo was the only one who thought to run to steady her against him. She buried her head in his shoulder, though not a tear fell. Something about the redness in her eyes said she’d run out of tears.

Annabeth felt a burn of anger rise up wihtin her, and with her hands fisted at her sides, she began again in a broken voice, “We can barely look at each other! We... We left her alone, after all she did for us. She died alone.”

Frank let out a shaky breath, his eyes on the ground. “Annabeth... what were we--”

“What were we supposed to do?” she spat back. Her hands were shaking. “Anything. She was a fucking daughter of Eris. The goddess of strife. She was the only one who tried to get everyone to fucking get along!”

Ten years ago, the eight Heroes of Olympus had gathered at Percy and Annabeth’s wedding. Frank and Hazel were newly separated, Piper and Jason too, and no one was really over how Leo didn’t hurry to come back after Calypso revived him.

It was,

“I bet you loved her attention! Was her head enough to make you forget us?”

“I had died!”

And,

“We were tricked into liking each other by Hera!”

“I loved you, Piper!”

Then,

“Why couldn’t we make it work? Why?”

“You know why!”

And finally,

“Stop fighting at our damn wedding!”

And in the middle of it all, there was Y/N. She stood between everyone, hands raised warily, as she tried to make everyone apologize. It didn’t work. She always blamed herself too; Eris kids only ever make things worse.

Nobody had had a kind word for another of the eight since then. After a while, Y/N stopped reaching out. She stopped trying to get everyone to meet up. She stopped attempting an intervention. She gave up.

And now she’s dead. Killed by a minotaur.

Percy felt it was payback.

In the thick silence, only broken by Annabeth’s heavy breathing and the occasional sniffle, nobody dared to say a word. 

Until... “I...” Piper sighed. “I spoke to her. A week ago. She... she tried to get me to call Jason. I refused.”

She closed her eyes, embarassed and ashamed, but then Jason looked up, eyes wide. “She called me too. Asked me to talk to you.”

Leo began to tap his chest with one hand and wipe his face with the other. “Me too. She called me to call Jason and Frank.”

“She wanted me to call Hazel.”

“And me to call Frank.”

Every one of them had refused. 

Annabeth just stared at Y/N’s grave, Percy mirroring her, their hands finding each others. “She wanted us to get everyone together, at camp... today. Oh, gods.”

Piper’s eyes widened like saucers. “You don’t think she...” She couldn’t finish.

“I don’t know,” said Percy, eyes unfocused. “I don’t know.”

Hazel shook her head frantically. “She wouldn’t. She was killed by a minotaur!”

Another silence took a hold of them and wouldn’t let go. One by one, each of them haunted by what ifs and worries, one by one they came to sit around the headstone.

Not another tear was shed. Hazel took the blue flowers all around and made anxious little flower crowns, passing them around the circle like some sort of machine, until Leo grabbed her hands and made her stop when everyone had a flower crown, a necklace, and a bracelet to don. 

From across their little circle, Jason looked at Piper, finding her eyes already on him. He shivered, and she pursed her lips. He broke the silence first. “It was Hera... I shouldn’t have felt I had a right to tell you how to feel.”

Piper shook her head. “I shouldn’t have assumed we meant nothing to you.”

“Guys,” Leo blurted, plucking petals off his crown. “I... I should have rushed back to ya’ll the moment I could... but I was scared. I didn’t know if ya’ll would want me back.”

Hazel gaped at him. “Why wouldn’t we want you back, Leo?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I was the eighth wheel, you know? I didn’t think I mattered to anyone.”

Percy cracked the stick in his hand. “You mattered the world to us... to Y/N.”

Frank nodded. “She was beside herself when you died. I’d never seen anyone so... so...”

“Hopeless,” Hazel finished, locking eyes with him before she quickly looked away. Something in Frank’s chest squeezed.

Leo’s eyes went somewhere behind them all, as if he’d never even played with the idea that he could mean so much to someone. None of them doubted, in that instant, that that was true, and suddenly they wondered for the first time if Leo was as all right as he appeared.

The sun continued its journey across the sky, now hiding behind the trees to offer the group some shade. 

Out of the shadows, literally, came Nico and consequently, Will. Annabeth was the first to notice their new matching wedding bands, putting a light smile on her face. 

For a moment, all the pair did was stand there, staring at the grave, not saying a word, before Nico tugged on Will’s hand and they were gone nearly as soon as they’d appeared. Everyone pretended not to hear how Nico broke the moment he turned his back.

Some time later, Chiron trotted up the hill, greeted each of them, and lade a laurel wreath on Y/N’s headstone.

Grover and Juniper came up soon after, but they too could only stand to look at the grave for so long before they turned back.

The seven remained, as though intending upon a vigil, in silence. Perhaps to honor her. Perhaps because no one knew what to say. One thing was clear, though, if nothing else: they were done fighting.

“I...” Percy spoke up, sniffling. “We...”

Annabeth took his hand. “Do you guys wanna come for dinner one day?”

She was afraid no one would answer, but almost immediatley Piper leaped at a reply. “Where’s your place?”

“Not far,” said Percy. “Still in Long Island.”

he squeezed Annabeth’s hand, shooting her a teasing look. She only grinned back. “And... well, uhm. We never got to tell any of you... thought it was always too soon--”

“What? What is it?” Leo demanded, on the edge of his grassy seat.

Annabeth and Percy locked eyes in a silent gleeful exchange, before Percy said, “We’re parents.”

Not a jaw was still shut.

“Dude,” Piper gasped. “What--Oh my gods.”

Hazel clapped her hands, a smile to bright that Frank buffered a moment. Leo pointed a thumb at the married couple and said, “Oh, you better bet we’re coming for dinner. Gotta meet tiny Jackson-Chase.”

Laughter bubbled up from the circle, and suddenly, the conversation wasn’t so muddled with bitter memories. Plans were made, silent apologizes given, and hope spread around.

It’d been just five hours since they’d first arrived, yet it felt as if a whole decade was occured. The decade they wasted. 

So as each of them stood (Hazel offered Frank her hand, and he gladly took it, towering over her like he always had. Leo and Jason shook hands, before the latter pulled the former into a rib cracking hug. Annabeth wiped at her face, locking eyes with Piper, and threw herself into her arms.) they tried not to dwell in the simmering past. 

It was the least they could do for Y/N, who believed they could forgive, even in her last days.

Which is why, hidden in the trees, shrouded by a cloud of mist, tears streaked down a young woman’s cheeks. Her lip trembling and her heart sang at the sight. Perhaps a child fo Eris didn’t have to ruin everything.

She wanted to run, to jump out of the trees before it was too late, to hug them at long last, but the grip on her shoulder made every attempt send shooting pains up her spine.

“It seems,” said Y/N’s mother. “You were right about them, my sweet.”

Y/N glared up at Eris, taking in a deep breath to calm herself. “Please. You’ve had your fun. Your hypothesis was wrong.”

The disapointment all over Eris’ face only made Y/N’s impatience grow. “I’m... surprised. I thought nothing could bring them together again.”

“You don’t give them enough credit,” said Y/N, a small smile gracing her face as she turned back to the seven. 

“Or,” said Eris, brows raised. “I didn’t give you enough credit. Certainly, as my favorite daughter I thought for sure your death would only drive them further apart...”

Y/N didn’t like the calculated look on her mother’s face, like Eris was wondering what had gone wrong, and she tugged at her hold on her shoulder despite the pain it brought. “Let me go?

“Aren’t you afraid they’ll be hostile when they see you deceived them?”

The daughter shrugged. “A little bit. But after I explain that you forced me into faking my death for the sake of testing them, I’m sure all their anger will find a much better outlet.”

With a scant smile, Eris ruffled her daughter’s hair. “Good. Now run along. They shouldn't grieve any longer than they have to.”

So she did, sprinting into the clearing without much thinking, not even blinking at the unsheathed weapons that followed her swift appearance.

Breathing heavily, Y/N’s eyes scanned over her friends, still blinking away tears, as one by one their guards fell crashing down. She waved a little. “Hi.”

Hazel broke first, her weapon falling to the grass as she bolted at Y/N, nearly taking them both down with the power behind her hug. The rest didn’t take long to follow, wrapping their arms around you in a stuffy yet welcome group embrace.

“But... how?”

She could only look toward the forest, glaringly so. “Turns out I’m my mother’s disappointment.”

[goldenraeofsun]

Baskerville

Dick vaults the last flight of stairs to the Batcave and sprints down the platform to the infirmary area. “Damian!” 

“Master Dick,” Alfred tsks as Dick skids to a halt outside the curtained area. “Please keep your voice down. Master Damian is resting.”

“I just heard,” Dick pants as he peers around Alfred to see through a gap in the curtains. “Did he say who did it?”

“Not exactly –” Alfred starts before Steph’s voice interrupts, her voice curt, “Jason.”

Dick steps around Alfred, ignoring his put-upon sigh, and slips by Damian’s bedside to stand next to Steph, barefaced, her eyes cold, as she stands next to the small figure hooked up to far too many tubes and covered in far too many bandages.

“Oh, Dames,” Dick murmurs as he reaches over to hold two of Damian’s fingers, the only visible part of him not covered in gauze. He bites his lip as he catalogs the TBI, broken left ulna, five bullet wounds his other limbs, probably fractured if not broken ribs, and split lip.

He turns to Steph. “You were patrolling together?”

Steph nods once, the movement too sharp. Her flinty gaze doesn’t waver from Damian’s face. “The Narrows. Apparently we got too close to Jason’s turf for his liking.”

Dick frowns. The edge of the gauze covering Damain’s hand chafes against his thumb, and he has to consciously stop himself from worrying it. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“This is exactly like him,” Steph snarls under her breath. “Tim told me about Jason’s attack at the Tower after he came back. A concussion, fractured jaw, broken clavicle, a fucking bootprint of a bruise on his back from where Jason kicked him into a stone statue. Lacerations all over from being thrown around like a ragdoll by a guy with half a foot and eighty pounds on him.”

Dick’s shoulders tense, involuntarily bristling at Steph’s actuation. “He has changed.”

“Clearly, he hasn’t.”

Dick shakes his head. “That was years ago. Talia messed with his head, convinced him that Tim took his place.”

“So Tim got that epic beatdown because Jason didn’t check his sources?” Steph hisses, incensed. Her eyes burn with a rage Dick hasn’t seen in a while - he has to stop himself from taking a step back. “And what could possibly be his reason to mess with Robin this time around? The kid would rather stab himself with his katana than pick up a gun and patrol Crime Alley.”

“I have no idea,” Dick says honestly. “And you’re sure it was Jason? It wasn’t… a copycat? A frame job?”

Steph’s mouth twists. “A copycat wearing Jason’s helmet, in Jason’s territory, that moved exactly like Jason?” She looks up at Dick for the first time since he arrived. “I may be blonde, but I’m not that blonde, Dick.” Jaw clenched, she averts her gaze again and starts to pace.

Dick sighs. Too many conflicting emotions are bombarding beneath his ribcage, too many questions left unanswered.

“If he walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, shoots armor piercing rounds like a duck…” Steph continues as she pivots back towards Dick and Damian, her footsteps unnaturally loud in the Cave. 

“But, he’s been good,” Dick says quietly, half to himself, half to Steph. “Sure, Jason has his issues with us, but he covered for me when I had to deal with the demon cult in San Francisco last week.”

“Because covering for you meant taking down the Yakuza’s growing foothold in Bludhaven,” Steph says impatiently before she takes off again. “He wiped them out in two nights and spent the rest of the time signing you up for every porn magazine still in circulation and stealing your wingdings to melt into bullets.”

Dick’s eyes widen. “How did you know that?”

She stops dead, scoffing, “Please, like Bruce is the only person who has your place bugged.”

“You bugged my –”

“Not me,” Steph cuts him off, making a face like Dick is an idiot. “Tim.”

Dick just sighs. He’ll have to do another sweep of his apartment soon if he has to start looking for Tim’s tech in addition to Bruce’s.

“It was Jason,” Steph mutters as she turns back to Damian, lying so still. “I have no idea why, but he did this. He did this to Robin.”

Dick turns back to Damian’s still form and gives his fingers a light squeeze, his heart impossibly heavy. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Steph.”

“If you need an extra pair of hands to take him down,” she says as she unclasps her cape and pulls aside the curtain separating them from the rest of the Cave, “you know who to call. I’m going to go hit stuff for a while.”

* * *

Nightwing is talking with Arkham’s chief of security when his com bursts to life. Spoiler’s voice screeches, “Back up, I need back up! Anyone there? Hello?”

Nightwing blinks, all attention focused on Spoiler. He holds up a finger to Ms. Yenn and taps his com. “Where are you?”

“The Bowery!”

Nightwing’s blood goes cold. With Arkham security measures and the destruction of the bridge during the breakout last night, it’ll take him at least fifteen minutes to get back to Gotham’s mainland and yet another twenty to get all the way to the east side. Red Robin might actually get to her faster; but he’s lurking somewhere in the Diamond District at this time of night, twenty minutes to the south of the Bowery.

“What’s the threat?”

A click of another line joining the frequency. 

Spoiler pants, “Jason!”

“Jason?” Red Robin repeats, the faintest whistle of air in the background.

Nightwing would bet the last of his wingding stash that Red Robin’s already on his way to Spoiler’s location. “Hang on, Spoiler, we’re heading to you.”

He turns back to Yenn, “I’m sorry, ma’am, I have to cut this short –”

“I can’t outrun him, guys,” Spoiler pants. She yelps, and dread pools in Nightwing’s stomach. "He's too fast. Like, really fast."

In a rush, Nightwing says, “Here are our recommendations for repairs.” He all but throws the drive at Yenn. “I’ll check back in next week if you need anything from us –”

“Fuck!” 

“Have a good night now!” He barrels through the doors of Arkham and sprints for the docks where he moored his boat. 

“Why the hell are you doing this?” Spoiler demands, breathless but determined.

Red Robin’s voice comes in, “Hold on, I’m ten minutes out.”

But in bat-time, ten minutes might as well be an hour, and by the way Spoiler doesn’t respond, she knows it too. 

Nightwing asks, “And you’re sure it’s Jason?” 

“She’s not stupid,” Red Robin responds instead, his voice tense. “If she says it’s Jason, it’s Jason.”

“Right, right,” Nightwing says over the slap of Gotham Bay’s choppy waters against the side of his boat. “I –”

“Has Robin woken up yet?” Red Robin asks. “To get his story?”

Nightwing's fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “He woke up, but he wasn’t lucid.”

The sounds of three impacts in rapid succession travel down the line. Spoiler grunts in pain, and Nightwing guns the engine.

“ETA, Red Robin?” Nightwing asks.

“Eight minutes,” Red Robin reports, his voice strained. “I ran like five red lights already and nearly killed a guy on a segway, but that’s his fault for driving a goddamn segway.”

Nightwing kills the engine as he approaches the marina. With his pulse thundering in his ears, he rides the tragically slow current to the edge of the dock. He throws out the bow and stern lines and ties them up in knots that would make Bruce ground him for a week for sloppiness, back in his Robin days.

As he’s racing to his parked bike, Spoiler screams.

An ominous series of thumps come through over the comms.

“Steph, hold on!” Red Robin shouts.

Nightwing flies down the street, heading eastward. 

Spoiler moans. “What the fucking hell is wrong with you?” she gasps, coughing wetly.

This whole time, Spoiler’s opponent hasn’t said a word, which raises every single one of Dick’s red flags. If Jason had one kryptonite, it was his big, fat mouth. Like all former Robins, quips and kicks came to him naturally. And Jason might’ve ditched the roundhouses for Sig Sauers, but he can never shut his trap when the opportunity presents itself.

“Five minutes!” Red Robin calls over a flurry of honks and yells from roaring through another red light.

Spoiler doesn’t respond, but the gunshot comes in loud and clear, followed by the heart-stoppingly familiar burst of static. Her comm has been crushed.

“Tell me what’s happening, Red Robin,” Nightwing demands.

“Four minutes,” Tim says breathlessly.

The next four minutes pass in a blur of lights and pedestrians. The static rings in Nightwing’s ears, deafening in the silence over the comm line. He weaves in between the cars, through the smallest of gaps to shave off fractions of seconds.

Red Robin next checks in, and Nightwing almost misses the next turn, shifting his weight just in time, making it just in time.

“She’s here. She’s alive,” Red Robin pants, his relief palpable. “Just barely. Pulse thready. I’m getting her out of here.”

Nightwing exhales a slow breath, trying to calm himself. Disaster mostly averted, but a disaster that should have never happened in the first place.

He needs to get a handle on this, before anyone else gets hurt.

“Any visual on her attacker?”

Red Robin doesn’t answer immediately. Eventually, he says, after an extremely judgemental silence, “No sign of Jason.”

Two minutes after Red Robin whisked Spoiler away, Nightwing pulls up to her last location at the edge of the Bowery, a wide open space of concrete and weeds underneath the overpass. Scuff marks, drops of blood leading to a larger pool, hallmarks of a fight decorate the eastern edge of the lot. The scene makes his stomach churn, but he finds no evidence left by her attacker. After a fruitless search, he heads back to the Cave. 

He stays beside Damian for hours, trying his best to calm him down when he opens his eyes to see Steph on the bed next to him, unconscious and hooked up to all their backup monitors.

They have to sedate him again. 

Once both are stable and resting under Alfred’s careful eye, Dick sneaks out. If Tim caught wind of Dick’s plan, he’d never let him go through with it. But Dick couldn’t take the chance that Tim would spook Jason and Dick would be back at square one. Jason and Tim got along like two feral cats with distinct territories – fine at a distance, but chaos in close quarters.

No, he can’t afford to have Tim as backup. He’ll handle Jason on his own.

* * *

Jason watches himself wash his hands in his cramped safehouse bathroom. Silently, he seethes. Stephanie Brown’s crimson red blood turns the water pink and swirls down the drain. His head raises to the stained mirror above the sink.

“Don’t be so glum,” comes out of his mouth. His eyes stare back at him, dark and fathomless. His face smiles, too wide, baring too many teeth.

A broad, gleeful smile. 

“A little louder, lambchop. I think you may have a collapsed lung.”

The crowbar swings again.

He struggles. The ropes dig into his wrists and ankles. No give at all. He’s completely helpless.

“I left her alive, didn’t I?” comes out of his mouth next, and Jason throws himself against the invisible confines of his own head, trying to wrest back control of his body, swearing a blue streak that would make Alfred wash his mouth out with soap.

His reflection does not move an inch. “Now,” it tuts, “that’s not a very nice thing to say about my mother. Yours was hardly a saint.” It turns to dry Jason’s hands on the threadbare maroon towel hanging opposite the toilet. “Child neglect, drug abuse, not to mention her weak constitution. Is that something people say anymore? ‘Weak constitution’? I can never keep up with the lingo. But your head is filled with such fascinating vocabulary.”

It leaves the bathroom, and Jason loses sight of his reflection. He’s just a pair of eyes, unable to so much as twitch his pinky finger.

“Boring,” it declares as it picks up a first edition of The Hound of the Baskervilles on the end table by Jason’s couch. It lets the book fall to the floor, ignoring Jason’s wordless scream of rage. Left there, it will crack the fucking spine and, well, it was a gift from Bruce.

Jason fucks with everything else in Bruce’s life, but not their first editions. Some things are sacred, even from beyond the grave.

The first year he and Bruce were on semi-decent terms, Jason came back to his safehouse after a quiet patrol on his birthday – and Jason has thoughts about Bruce’s interference with his patrol too – to find a new book nestled among the other beaten up Penguin Classics and shitty sci fi novels he takes on boring stakeouts. There was no slip of paper with a happy birthday note on the inside, but words have never been Bruce’s forte. 

But it was their thing, so it had to be Bruce. 

No movie was too campy to watch with Dick. No cold case was too cold to tackle with Tim. And no martial arts technique was too obscure to teach Damian. 

But with Jason, no first edition was ever too rare to track down and give to his second Robin.

Jason howls as he watches his steel-toed boot kick The Hound of the Baskervilles under the coffee table. A few pages come loose and flutter back to the ground. Not a sound escapes his mouth.

“My bad,” it says in a sing-song voice that makes Jason’s blood boil. “No matter. Conan was a real fraud, let me tell you  –”

It pauses at the sound of a tap-tap-tap on the window.

At the sight of the blue finger stripes, Jason’s stomach sinks. Fuck no, Dick can’t be here. He is playing right into its hands –

But Jason just beats at the invisible bars of his cage as his body marches to stand in front of the window. His face morphs into a feigned expression of confusion as Dick meets his gaze through the glass. Get away, he screams, but, what comes out is, “Dickface, you got a problem using my front door like everyone else?”

“This is faster,” Dick grunts as he neatly disables Jason’s security measures and slides inside, graceful as one of Damian’s cats. “Plus, I’m not here for a social call.”

“So what do I owe the visit, then?” it asks, crossing its arms over its chest and raising an eyebrow.

Dick sighs. “Someone has been attacking… us,” he says slowly, studying Jason’s face carefully for his reaction.

It drops the defensive stance. “Who? Are the kids okay?” it asks.

Jason fumes. It’s not me! he shouts, but the demon gives nothing away. 

“Damian and Stephanie, so far,” Dick says, his lips pursing. “Someone got the drop on them. They who knew what he was doing. They evaded all cameras and left no evidence.”

The guilt, always lurking in the back of Jason’s mind, rolls over him like a freight train. He did that. Those attacks were his fault. 

The gremlin, flat on the ground, his hand twisted the wrong way from his broken arm, three bullet grazes leaking blood, and two bullet holes gushing with it. Five in total.

Blondie, slumped over, a halo of red surrounding her bright hair. Cracked ribs and a twisted ankle. A bullet in her thigh, left shoulder, calf, and, of course, that near miss at her temple. Head wounds always bled like a bitch. Four shots in total.

Clues for Dick to find.

Every time the demon would propose a plan of attack, alone in his apartment with just Jason for company, he would try to think of something else, anything else, but it was like asking someone not to think of a pink elephant. His mind would betray him, his real thoughts would drift to the surface, and the demon would gleefully snatch them from his consciousness and improve its plan with Jason's contribution.

Jason knew the kid, knew what they taught him in the League, and knew what Bruce was teaching him now.

He shudders, but of course none of this shows on his face.

Stephanie was harder, since Jason didn’t have as much of a history with her, and she started her vigilante career self-taught, outside of Bruce’s influence. But, Jason has several years of Bat training and League tutelage on her, not to mention a hundred pounds of muscle, so it got her in the end.

Tim – Jason dreads what the demon has in store for Tim Drake. 

“Have the gremlin or blondie said who did it?” the demon asks, raking a hand through Jason’s hair as if lost in thought.

As Dick struggles to answer, Jason tries to wrest control of anything, his pinky finger, his right knee, his left eyebrow. He lashes out at his confines, silently howling his rage.

“They both say you did it,” Dick says quietly.

It actually reels back a step – You’re overselling it, you bastard – and puts on some stupid, wounded look on his face that Jason would slap off, if he could. But, judging by Dick’s hurt expression, he’s falling for the act, hook, line, and sinker. 

Fuck you, Dick.

If Jason went around randomly attacking Bats, he’d own up to it like a man. He took on Batman himself when he was fresh out of the League, fueled by angst and spite. And when Bruce tracked him down, did Jason play coy and say, Oh, no Bruce you got the wrong dead kid you adopted and then kicked to the curb ? No, Jason did his big reveal, they had an epic fight, and he went on with his plans. Zero subterfuge, no underhanded manipulation – that was Bruce’s game, not Jason’s.

“It wasn’t me,” it answers Dick in a disturbingly convincing voice. No more than a whisper with a hint of warning.

Dick glances around, his gaze catching on one of the stray The Hound of the Baskervilles pages. “Sherlock Holmes?” he asks as he scans the text, his brow furrowing.

“What? I may not have graduated high school, but I know how to read,” it says, its tone pointed.

Dick holds up his page-free hand in a gesture of no-harm. “I didn’t think detective stories were your thing. But I should’ve known,” he says with a light chuckle that makes Jason want to throttle him because how can he be laughing now, at all times, “Brit Lit wins out over everything else, right?”

Jason feels his mouth stretch into an easy smile. “Right,” it says with his voice.

Fuck you twice over, Dick. 

Jason loved detective stories as a kid; all Robins did. They were raised by the World’s Greatest Detective; Sherlock Holmes was practically required reading, and Conan Doyle was definitely more fun than the old GCPD case reports that Bruce set as weekly assignments. Jason could tell the difference between deductive and inductive reasoning before he put on the scaly panties.

“Do you have any tracking data that recorded your location earlier tonight and last Friday?” Dick asks.

If Jason had a jaw he could use, it would have dropped open in surprise. Dick didn’t swallow the demon’s story whole.

But as the demon does something with Jason’s face, Dick rushes to say, “Damian and Steph will want proof.”

Jason would swear at the top of his voice if he could. He should’ve known. 

“They don’t know you like I do,” Dick says – pleads, really.

Christ, the guy’s pathetic.

“Well, you can’t have it,” the demon says, with a fair approximation of Jason’s quick temper. “I already have enough Bats up in my business. I don’t need little birdies on my tail when you play pin the tail on Jason because Robin took one too many blows to the head and started seeing things.”

“But–”

“Get out,” it says over Dick’s objections.

“Jay–” Something on the demon’s face makes Dick cut himself off. He carefully sets the page down on the coffee table. “Fine, I’m going. Just, look out for yourself, okay?” He meets Jason’s eyes. “I know you didn’t do this, Little Wing.” 

I didn’t.

“Get out, before I make you,” the demon says before it all but shoves Dick back out the window and slams it down behind him.

As they both watch Dick swing away, it says, “Now, let the real fun begin.”

* * *

Tim is almost too easy to track down. Despite the clear and present danger, Timmy keeps the same patrol routes he always does, with the added bonus of Big Brother watching in the wings, no doubt trying to catch the real perpetrator in the act.

Obviously, the demon couldn’t have that, so it hires a few brainless goons to blow up a yacht party on Penguin’s second-biggest boat at the same time as it places a fake 911 call about a convenience store robbery. Even if Dick figures out it’s a ploy to separate them, he will still feel compelled to stay and help search and rescue in Gotham Bay.

Jason watches with a churning feeling as Nightwing heads south and Red Robin goes north. The demon actually rubs its hands together like a two-bit spaghetti western villain about to tie a damsel to a set of train tracks.

It hops over the rooftops, supernaturally fast and agile. It keeps Red Robin at a distance, careful not to set off his well-honed sixth sense of being watched. It wouldn’t do to have Tim calling in Dick too early and ruining the big surprise.

The demon catches up with him after fifteen minutes. 

At his absolute fastest, it will take Nightwing half an hour to reach them, which is more than enough time.

“So I’m next on the list, huh?” Tim says, his voice dry as he turns around at the sound of Jason’s boots thumping down on the roof behind him. Quick as lightning, Tim snaps out his collapsible bo staff.

The demon, predictably, doesn’t say a word. It does, however, set off a miniature EMP to fry all of Tim’s fancy gadgets.

Tim raises a hand to his comm. “I want you to know, I was right,” he says. “It is Jason.”

It watches with sick satisfaction as Tim realizes his comm is dead. No help is coming. 

“What the hell did you do that for?” Tim asks as he nonchalantly twirls his staff, but Jason can read his nerves in the tense set of his shoulders – loose, Bruce always told them to stay loose – and the way he keeps his focus on Jason, not once scanning his peripherals.

“You rely on your toys too much, Timmy,” it says, taking a step closer. “So I thought I’d teach you a lesson. You need it, from what I’ve seen. You have none of Nightwing’s fluidity. Half of my brawn. A quarter of the gremlin’s training.” It reaches up and takes off Jason’s helmet, so Tim can see his bare face. “If I had to find a comparison, I’d say you’re most on level with Blondie, and she was, what, Robin for 73 days?”

Internally, Jason winces. He’d never say all that to Tim.

He’d think it, sure.

Because, from his experience, Tim isn’t a fighter on the same caliber as him and Dick and probably Damian once the little hellion goes through puberty. Tim fights smarter, relies more on his gadgets and environment than they do. He’s a relatively easier Robin to beat in close quarters, but he’s almost impossible at a distance. 

In the nonexistent-privacy of his own head, Jason’s admitted dozens of times over the past week that the kid is good and shouldn’t be underestimated. 

Tim takes the criticism with a completely blank expression. “Are you going to babble at me all night or are you actually going to do something? Because I gotta say,” he twirls his staff, daring Jason to attack while his weapon is occupied, “I’m feeling a bit left out you’re not giving me the silent treatment like you did –”

The demon lunges.

Tim dances out of the way in a dodge he definitely learned from Dick, and the fight is on.

Like with Steph and Damian, Jason tries to shut it out, but he can’t close his eyes; he can’t look away. And the demon takes all of his split-second judgments and hurls them at Tim in a merciless barrage.

A vicious punch to his kidney. “C’mon, you’re dropping your elbow, Timbo.”

A high kick to his face. “Oh, you almost blocked that in time!”

A one-two combo that sends Tim staggering back, blood dripping from his split lip, one hand cradling his cracked ribs. “Is that all you got?”

Tim smiles, crimson lacing over his teeth. “I’m just getting started.” He shifts his weight to his back foot, preparing to strike. 

The demon leans to the left for a feint –

Tim leaps backwards off the roof.

Shocked, the demon and Jason hear the poom of Tim’s grapple firing before the demon lets out a yell and follows.

Tim sprints across the increasingly decrepit Burnley townhouses, hurtling over planters full of dead bushes and overflowing piles of garbage. A stray beer bottle nearly trips him up, but he catches himself just in time. He leaps for the next building over and easily clears the ten feet of distance. 

He glances behind him, the whites of his lenses reflecting the orange street lamps. With a low curse, he throws a birdarang over his shoulder and keeps running.

The demon ducks, a feral smile curling its lip.

Tim goes too short on his next jump. His midsection slams into the edge of the roof, and he audibly gasps in pain. His gloved fingers scrabble for purchase on the crumbling concrete, and he levers himself over just as the demon takes off from the next building over. Tim sucks in a deep breath as he takes off again, weaving between rusted lawn chairs and pots full of weeds and brown dirt.

Jason and the demon overtake Tim at the next building. With a snarl, the demon yanks on Tim’s cape, sending him crashing to the ground. 

“Neat trick,” it says as it pulls out Jason’s gun from its holster. “But as fun as our little chase scene was, game’s over now, birdbrain.”

Flat on his back, Tim throws another birdarang, trying to knock the gun out of his hand. It lodges between his knuckles, and Jason internally winces at the sight, but the demon ignores it. Doesn’t even bother removing it before he fires two shots, one at each of Tim’s legs, aiming for the gaps in the armor. A third buries itself in Tim’s arm.

Tim screams as the bullets go in and through. 

“Come on, I didn’t even hit any bones,” it says in an almost bored voice as it stands over Tim, one firm, steel-toed boot on his cape, keeping him pinned like a butterfly to a corkboard. “Walk it off.” It smirks down at Tim as it plucks the birdarang out of his hand and tosses it over his shoulder. “If you can.”

Tim just glares, the corners of his mouth pinched with pain. At least he doesn’t try to get up and embarrass himself.

“Oh, right,” it says drolly, as it crouches by Tim’s side and roughly cuts him out of his outersuit, leaving it to soak up the steadily growing pool of blood around them. Redundancy is Bruce’s middle name, so the demon won’t take any chances with trackers powered by body heat or friction. It slices down the laces of Tim’s boots and pries them off.

Once Tim’s just in his black undersuit and barefoot, it hauls Tim over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and, ignoring Tim’s grunt of agony and increasingly pale face, jumps off the roof. It heads to Jason’s nearest safehouse, now three blocks away since Tim led it on that not-so-merry chase deeper into Burnley.

“Why are you taking me,” Tim groans. “You left Steph and Damian where you put them down.”

“You’re just special, Timberly,” it says as it clears another roof, landing with a heavy thump that makes Tim groan. And because it can’t let that backhanded compliment just hang there, it adds, “Bet that’s the first time anyone’s told you that, huh?”

Tim lets out a series of awful little whimpers as demon’s stomps down each of the fire escape stairs outside his safehouse. Jason catches sight of his reflection around in a third floor window, and his back is absolutely coated with blood from Tim’s bullet-ridden legs. His jacket glistens with it.

Not good.

Clang!

He startles at the sound of metal on metal, and the demon turns his head to watch one of his glocks clatter through the slats to the alley floor. 

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with guns?” it asks, ducking its head to get a good look at Tim, hanging upside down.

Tim just smirks and drops Jason’s other gun from where he palmed it. Down into the alley below it goes.

“You’re going to pay for that,” the demon growls. 

Tim says nothing, and Jason pushes down his worry. The snark is always the first to appear and last to disappear once a Robin puts on the cape. He tries to turn his head back to check on Tim, to make sure he’s still alive, but the demon doesn’t let him budge an inch. 

It just hikes Tim higher and opens the window to his safehouse. It drops Tim on the circular area rug in the living room. Tim coughs as he rolls onto his side, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. “Sit tight, Timmy. I’ve got to make a call.”

“Good fucking luck,” Tim spits.

Jason would sigh in relief if he could.

The demon stops, turns to squint down at Tim in the dark living room. “What the hell are you talking about?”

But Tim just rolls over again and closes his eyes, his breathing too fast and too shallow.

“Now,” it pulls Jason’s phone out of his pocket, “What should we tell big bro, hm?”

The lights switch on.

The demon whirls in place as Dick pushes off the far wall, his expression furious. “You could tell me what the hell you were thinking, going after my family.”

For a beat, they just stare at each other.

Tim groans into the silence, “Quit the dramatics, Dick.”

Face stricken, Dick darts forward and starts to drag Tim closer.

“Woah, hey, not so fast,” the demon purrs as it reaches for Tim.

But Dick is faster; he yanks Tim out of the demon’s reach. Tim cries out as the carpet gives way to wooden floor. “Sorry, sorry,” Dick murmurs as he crouches down to run his fingers through Tim’s sweaty hair. He isn’t even looking at Jason.

Jason can’t believe it. He can count about a hundred ways Dick is leaving both of them open to attack. This goes beyond stupid.

Evidently the demon agrees with him: “What are you doing?”

Dick ignores the question. Doesn’t even glance up. “Brace yourself,” he says to Tim, “One…” he hefts Tim into his arms way before he gets to three. His mouth tightens as Tim’s eyes fly open and his face contorts in pain.

And then Dick turns his back on the demon.

“Where are you going?” It circles around to block their exit – 

Jason blinks as his forehead rams into an invisible wall. The demon reels back, almost tripping over its own feet. It darts a hand out, grunting as its knuckles meet solid air.

“I’m going to get Tim to Alfred downstairs,” Dick says. He turns his head, so Jason can see the hard glint to his eye, “And then I’m going to get you out of my brother.”

Struck dumb, the demon doesn’t say another word as Dick disappears with Tim out the door.

What the fuck just happened?

Dick… knows?

* * *

Alone in Jason’s safehouse, the demon feels around its invisible cage, muttering to itself. 

Not so fun when it happens to you, is it? Jason thinks savagely

The confines closely follow the border of the area rug, and when the demon peels it back, Jason marvels at the intricate runes carved in the wood underneath that definitely weren’t there the last time he was in this safehouse.

“How did he…” it drifts off, gnashing Jason’s teeth.

“You just couldn’t resist needling Jason, could you?” Dick says, and the demon looks up to find him leaning against the front door frame, arms crossed over his chest, his face impassive. “You did the same thing in San Francisco.” He shuts the door behind him. “It wasn’t enough to mess with the cultists that dredged you up from hell in the first place, you had to make your host’s life miserable too, even though she was just an innocent bystander.”

The demon straightens. “What can I say,” it starts, dropping the act. It stands preternaturally still. “The eternally devoted are just so boring, you know? Complete subservience wears off so soon.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Dick deadpans. He pulls a slim, leather-bound book out of nowhere. “Now, shut up. I have to concentrate. Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas –”

Suck it, Jason crows to the demon. Dickie’s gonna kick your ass back to hell.

“Wait,” the demon shouts over the exorcism, “I can help you!”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Dick says tonelessly without looking up. “Omnis incursio, infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica –”

“Power? Money? Love? You could have it all!”

If Jason had a mouth, he would laugh loudly. As if Dick doesn’t have exactly as much power, money, and love as he wants. He runs multiple superhero teams, and he’s the son of Bruce Wayne. Nightwing is about as beloved as heroes go, save maybe Superman or Wonder Woman.

There’s nothing a demon could offer Dick Grayson that he couldn’t make happen himself. 

Well, maybe –

“Your parents,” the demon announces, and Jason lets out a wordless scream of rage. Of course the fucker picked up on that.

Dick speeds up as wind starts to whip up around them. “Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te –”

“I could bring them back for you.”

Dick’s brow furrows, and he swallows once before restarting, “ Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare –”

“They’d live long, happy lives,” the demon adds.

Dick pauses. 

Oh, fuck.

Worst of all, Jason can’t blame Dick in the slightest. Objectively, he knows John and Mary Grayson were good people, and he is not. Jason is doing good work, sure, but he wouldn’t call himself a good person. 

Moreover, Dick definitely has thoughts on Jason’s definition of “good work” and exactly how much killing that requires.

His saintly parents for the low, low price of one possessed, morally compromised brother? That’s hardly a choice.

The demon goads, “They’d see all you’ve accomplished, all the lives you’ve saved, all the disasters you’ve averted.”

Jason really does not like that faraway look in Dick’s eye. 

It continues, “They would be so proud, and you’d have your family back.”

Dick’s fingers tighten on pages. He looks up, his eyes flashing. “My family is right here, and I already know my parents are proud of me.” He shakes his head ruefully. “Jason, hold on. Constantine said you’re in for a pretty bumpy ride. Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis –”

The demon yells, and the wind picks up, whipping at his hair, tugging and pulling at his clothes. Pins and needles break out all over his body. And Jason can’t even enjoy having physical sensation back before it turns to white-hot pokers, like fire licking at every inch of his skin.

He can’t even tell who is screaming any more. He has no idea if Dick is still speaking at all. All he knows is the pain.

He falls to his knees, choking and spluttering over bitter, rancid air. Down on all fours, he retches with whole body heaves. The fire spreads down his throat. It burns like acid to the very pit of his stomach. He gags, and tears spring to his eyes as something black and tarry slithers out of his mouth and splats onto the carpet.

“ – audi nos!”

Jason watches, horrified, as the thing bubbles down into nothing. Panting for breath and shivering all over, he scrambles back, off the carpet until his back hits the wall beneath the window.

Silence rings in his ears.

“Jason?” Dick drops into a squat until he’s at Jason’s level even though he’s still all the way across the room by the door. “Are you back with me?”

Jason nods, the movement too quick and too jerky, but Dick just sags back against the door in relief. 

“Thank god,” he mutters as he lets the book drop to the floor. He runs a weary hand down his face.

For a long moment, they just stare at each other. 

Dick speaks first. “I’m so sorry, Jay.”

Jason blinks. “For what?” He’s the one who beat the majority of their family to bloody pieces over the past week. His fists gave Damian a concussion, dislocated Stephanie’s shoulder, and cracked Tim’s ribs. His mind gave away all their weaknesses, starting with Dick: his family.

“For not getting the monster back in San Francisco,” Dick says, staring at Jason’s ceiling. “I just pissed it off enough to follow me back here.”

“Oh,” is all Jason can say.

Dick just shakes his head, his throat working as he swallows. “I’m sorry,” he repeats.

Jason’s skin crawls at the undeserved apology. He scrambles for a new subject instead. “I’m just trying to figure out when you knew it wasn’t me.”

Dick’s gaze flicks to the dark bookshelf in the corner of the room. It’s smaller than the one in his primary safehouse, but still stacked with well worn paperbacks and a few hardback short story anthologies. “It messed with your first edition.”

“One loose page was enough to clue you in?” he raises his eyebrows. “What kind of Sherlock Holmes shit are you on?”

Dick shrugs. “All signs pointed to you, but you were insisting it wasn’t you.” He exhales a loud breath. “It wasn’t adding up. If you had a grudge against any of us, you’d own up to it. Creatively and loudly, if I know you at all. Ergo, it was you but wasn’t you at the same time. Does that make sense?”

Jason snorts. “No.”

“So, less Sherlock Holmes and more brother intuition,” Dick says with a tired smile.

Jason can’t help pressing, “You really didn’t buy its innocence act for a second? The other option, that I was going after the kids, that’s gotta be your worst nightmare.”

“I’m an optimist,” Dick says flatly, “not an idiot. There’s a difference.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s always trust but verify with you.”

Jason shakes his head. “ Doveryay, no proveryay? Really?”

“доверяй, но проверяй” Dick repeats, the slavic syllables rolling off his tongue with a native-sounding fluency that makes Jason’s stomach clench with envy. He’s fluent too, but he will never sound like that. Dick adds, “With your history, can you blame me?”

“I guess not,” Jason says as he curls his fingers into fists.

“But this wasn’t you,” Dick says as he gets to his feet and silently walks towards Jason. “Everyone knows that, now.” He reaches down, offering Jason his hand to help him up.

Jason doesn’t take it. “It was my hands,” he mutters, “my guns.”

“But it wasn’t you,” Dick says, more firmly this time. His hand doesn’t waver. “I know you, Jay. You’ve changed. You wouldn’t attack us out of the blue.”

Jason just grunts.

Dick waggles his fingers in Jason’s face. “Come back to the Cave with me. I’m gonna pass out any minute now, and Alfred needs an assistant to help with Tim, Steph, and Damian. I don’t know what’s in the water over there, but they’re all awful at resting up.”

“Pot, kettle, Dickface.”

“Hey,” Dick holds his other hand up, “I never said anything about me.” He thrusts his offered hand closer and nearly takes out Jason’s eye. “Not getting any younger here.”

Jason scowls up at him, leaning slightly to the left to avoid Dick’s overly enthusiastic invitation. “I bet the last thing the kids want to see is my face.”

“Actually, Tim wants a record of what it’s like to get possessed, so if it ever happens to him, he knows how to beat it,” Dick says with a warm smile. “When he wakes up, he’ll be pestering you nonstop for a complete recount. And I might’ve let slip to Steph that you watch Black Sails since she’s in a pirate phase, of all things.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Dick agrees. “And as for Damian, well, he’ll want to pick over your fight in nauseating detail to know how to beat you next time.”

Jason sighs loudly. “You’re not leaving here without me, are you?”

“Nope,” Dick says cheerfully.

Jason swats Dick’s hand out of the way and gets to his feet. “If you’re wrong, you’re next on my shitlist, got it?”

Dick shudders exaggeratedly as Jason opens the window to leave. “Oh, I’m so scared.”

���Don’t tempt me,” Jason says warningly. “You’re the last Robin left, the way I see it.”

Dick throws him an odd look before he climbs through to the fire escape. “No, I’m not.”

Jason takes the steps down three at a time. “What, did Bruce pick up another black haired twerp while I wasn’t looking?”

“No,” Dick says slowly as he follows. 

“Then what the hell are you talking about?”

“You, Jay. I’m talking about you,” Dick says, deliberately slowly like the demon might’ve taken more than a few braincells when it vacated Jason’s body. “I’m not the last Robin; we are.”

Jason turns away, his face heating. He jumps the rest of the way to the alley floor, scowling as Dick backflips his way down. “C’mon,” he mutters, “Alfred’s never gonna take a break if we’re not there.”

[necrotic-nephilim]

what are your favourite batcest ships and why?

AAA i love this question so much. i'm going to limit myself to a top five, because otherwise, i'd just end up listing all of them. the true joy of batcest is they're all so good for such different reasons and there are so many unique dynamics you can explore.

JayTim - it's funny bc, before i started this blog, i don't know if i would've put these two losers as my number one. but because i've done so much deep diving into their dynamic and i write them the most, i think it'd be a disservice for them to be anything *but* number one. their canon dynamic is just. so fun to play with. i truly love all of their interactions, particularly pre-Flashpoint. the concepts of Tim holding such contempt for Jason while Jason is weirdly obsessed with Tim. i'm a fan of Hannibal and Killing Eve and well. if this isn't a Hannigram-coded ship idk *what* is. i like ships where love and hate co-exist and there's no real "happily ever after", just fucked up co-existing, where they crawl back to each other like a bad habit and really, this ship is that so perfectly. the themes of jealousy in the Robin mantle. Tim wearing Jason's Red Robin suit to punish himself. i will likely never shut up about them. even in the New-52, there's such a substance to them, though the dynamic is wildly different. they will always be so weirdly dependent on each other's existence. i love them.

BruDick - you can't outdo the doer, i fear. i think i like BruDick mostly for the history of it, yk. there's genuinely *so much* queer history seeped into the homoeroticism of Batman and Robin, these two have been a symbol for queer people for decades. but the ship itself has so many dynamics i love. problematic age gap, "are we family or lovers", "i can't be in a room alone with you without getting into a screaming match but if you called i drop everything for you". all of it. i especially favor 80s/90s BruDick when they were in their divorce era just because it's so messy. Dick has canonically said he would die for Bruce, even during their arguments. no matter what, these two will always be single-mindedly devoted to each other. there will be other Robins, but none of them will compare to Dick Grayson, for Bruce. it's a unique and complicated bond that has endless layers to peel back. they always crawl back to each other bc no one else will match their level of intensity.

DamiTim - years and years ago, when i was a teen trying to people-please with how i existed in fandom, i used to insist i didn't like batcest and found it icky and gross. but there was one DamiTim fic that was my exception. that fic was my fucking roman empire. i reread it like once a year even though it's not completed and likely never will be i do not care. so now that i've killed the morality police in my head and i let myself ship what i actually want to ship, this ship holds a top place in my heart just bc of that fic alone. but in general i do fucking love their dynamic. similar to JayTim there's just so much mutual hatred in these two that has endless potential. Damian's insistence to not see Tim as a Wayne and as a legitimate brother/heir to Bruce is something you can play a lot if you give Damian an angry, fucked up crush on Tim he doesn't want to admit to. they have so many reasons to dislike each other, so to try to get them to slowly fall in love is a fun challenge. they either have a long complicated forgiveness arc and end up a happy married couple or they are the couple that tries to kill each other once a week. no in-between.

JeanTim - there's like. one person here on tumblr who goes as hard for this ship as i do and truly god bless them bc they feed me. Jean-Paul is too underrated in the batcest scene. once i reread Knightfall, i will have to help popular this tag on ao3. i enjoy both a very fucked up version of this ship during the peak of the Knightfall arc, where Jean-Paul is deep in his murder Batman era and Tim is trying to stop him to no real avail, but i *also* think there's so much you can do with the ship afterwards, where Jean-Paul is trying to make up for what he's done and be a better person and better hero. they're the peak Batman/Robin ship, to me. they truly care about each other, but have a very complicated/bloody history and i just. man i love it so dearly. i've been meaning to write a fic where Jean-Paul goes to Tim post the Sword of Azrael (2022) arc to properly discuss and apologize for all his actions in Knightfall for his personal healing and they end up fucking. it could be sweet and cute or kinky fun bc what is the joy of a character with that much Catholic guilt if you don't give them a weird religious kink.

BruCarrie - The Dark Knight Returns got me into comics and i will defend it till the day i die. Carrie Kelley can be pried from my cold dead hands. i just really love these two? Carrie took one look at that cranky old bastard and decided she was his problem. and Bruce is at a stage where he should be very averse to the idea of having a Robin, he knows it's a bad idea. but he just. accepts her anyway. idk how to explain their dynamic other than she plunks herself in his lap and stitches up his wounds while telling him he's an idiot and he lets her even if he's grumbling about it. they have the biggest age gap of any Batman/Robin ship and for that, they should get like. a dead dove gold star no matter how rare the pair is.

also honorable mention goes to BruTim, because *god* do i love the concept of Tim offering himself up to Bruce as Robin in every way, knowing that there are likely sexual/romantic implications to being Robin. it's one of my favorite flavors of batcest to exist. i don't view them as a "happily ever after" ship, because Bruce will always go back home to Dick, but it's a fun lil dead dove moment.

[xoxochb]

semaine de la mode

idk if you'd do this, but can i request jason grace x praetor!daughter of bacchus to lacy?

reader and jason have been friends for as long as they could remember (aka since they were five years old) and she's got this biggest crush on him, but no one knows about it, even jason.

skip to when he vanishes, she looks for him day and night, like she vowed not to stop looking for him.

and then, he comes back with piper as his gf

basically “you've got the one thing that i want,” is reader kinda telling piper? idk if that makes sense.

long story short, reader decides to join the hunters of diana/artemis bcs she can't handle the heartbreak anymore. but, piper had already broken up with jason bcs she knows bro is in love with reader, he just forgot about it (aphrodite kid skillz)

pls make it a happy ending 😭

⋆·˚ ༘ * lacy

warnings: angst with resolved ending pairing: jason grace x praetor! daughter of bacchus a/n: this really isn’t my best work I’m sorry 😭

you would have to disagree when people said childhood crushes never last because in your case you feel it may never end. your undying love for the son of jupiter started when you were five the moment your eyes settled on him, his blond hair and electric blue eyes captivating. for as far back as your crush you had been best friends, always. did you not give enough signs? or was jason grace an oblivious idiot?

oh how you wish he would know. nobody knew. you were left to suffer silently with your feelings. praetor duties had to come first, if you were to confess your feelings and be rejected it would make your life at camp more difficult than it already was, you’d have to suppress your love for the rest of your life. both you and jason being praetors would have made things worse, you would see him all the time! you couldn’t live with the awkwardness of that

one day you awoke to find that your very crush had gone missing, no trace of anything left behind. the first day was a shock. missing? you knew jason, which is why you knew exactly that he would leave like this. the second day you began an investigation, collecting information from his peers. where did you see him last? what was his demeanor? did he have a reason? was he forced?

you were left with many unanswered questions meaning you had to work yourself. day and night you searched every inch of camp jupiter, twice a day until you suspected he wasn’t at camp anymore. you then took it upon yourself to check the nearby premises of camp, checking lakes, forests, streets, anything you could find. even if your friends at camp insisted you take a break, sleep, eat, anything deemed healthy you refuses to give up looking, you couldn’t do anything until you knew jason was safe

“y/n I am begging you please sleep you’re going to kill your self” reyna sprawls along your bed, asking you for the millionth time to take a break

you learn back against the headboard of your bed. “I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to”

“eat something at least”

“I’m not hungry”

reyna sits up to face you. “you’ve got to be, you haven’t eaten in weeks”

you shrug and reyna sighs, standing up. “I’m going to get you something to eat and I’m going to stay here until you finish it”

you watch as the praetor leaves, only hoping she won’t keep her words

ੈ✩‧₊˚

a week later you receive the greatest of news that jason had returned to camp and almost ecstatic you rush to the crowd, only to find him looped arms with another girl- a beautiful girl you would have to assume she was one of venus’ children. your heart breaks into tiny pieces when you realize you spent all your time searching for a boy who found love in another girl

does she know she has the one thing you’ve always wanted? probably not

you leave to your cabin, yet again being left with your relentless thoughts. did he forget about you? about how you were best friends? did he purposely get a girlfriend? of course he liked her she was probably more put together than you ever were- silly daughter of bacchus nobody would want to date you. rambunctious, filled with energy, jason had every right not to chose you

later that night you received a knock on your door. and of course it was just as you were falling to sleep for the first time in forever. sleepily you answer it, facing the very boy occupying your thoughts. should you hug him or should you slam the door in his face?

“hey” you mutter, almost awkwardly.

“can I come in?”

no.

“yeah, sure”

you lead jason to your bed, both taking seats. the silence you once thought comforting you wish wasn’t there

you play with the edges of your blanket. “why did you leave?”

“it wasn’t by choice. I got all my memories wiped”

“then what?”

jason sighs. “I woke up on a bus. piper was there. so was leo. I didn’t understand anything, I’ve never met them in my life but they claimed to know me so I assumed I did. over time my memory started coming back slowly, I started remembering you, my best friend. I couldn’t wait to come back to see you”

you discard you blanket and bring your legs up to your chest, resting your head on your knees. “she’s your girlfriend? a daughter of venus perhaps?”

“aphrodite”

“she’s pretty. I’m happy for you”

jason stays silent for a moment, you assume trying to think of the right words because what the hell are you supposed to say to someone after being gone for weeks?

“I missed you y’know?”

you feel tears threaten to escape your eyes, thankful for the darkness of the cabin.

“I missed you too” you whisper

“do you want me to stay over tonight? like old times?”

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like you laying with another girl”

jason nods, respecting your wishes. “will I see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be busy”

oh how you hated lying to him. disappointment fills his senses, you can almost feel it radiating off him. jason takes this as a hint and leaves, allowing you be alone

the sleep you were about to get was replaced by tear filled eyes, staining your pillow

ੈ✩‧₊˚

was love worth the tears? was a boy worth the tears? it couldn’t have been. a big decision awaits you as the hunting goddess stands before you

“are you sure this is what you want?” asks diana

you nod. “I think, yes”

diana sighs. “as much as I hate love I don’t think you should join just because of one boy. Immortality is a serious decision, not something you’d do over a silly situation. I will come back in a few days and ask you the same question, I want you to think about this thoroughly”

you obey her words. was this too soon? you visit the lake, skipping rocks on the water. one, two, three, four, five, six… it falls down into the water

“I didn’t know you were a professional rock skipper” a voice says behind you, a voice you know all too well

you turn around to face jason grace. “what are you doing here?”

jason walks towards you, picking up a rock and skipping it, not making it nearly as far as yours

“I wanted to talk to you”

“about what?”

“you- uhm, me. us?” he sighs before continuing, “last night, our talk… it made me realize something. well actually piper made me realize it. I always thought of us as best friends, our friendship was always something special to me but I thought it was just because we were friends. but when you said I couldn’t stay over at your cabin it made me think maybe we were always closer than I thought. after I left I was talking to piper about you, and you know her being a daughter of aphrodite she seems to know about this love stuff. she told me she felt that I liked you and I told her about how close we were and about how we’ve always been friends. she made me realize that we’ve never been just friends”

“what are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say that I like you and I’ve been too stupid to realize it”

“you’re not stupid, jason”

“I am. I’m really stupid and I feel awful that I never acknowledged your feelings and let you think I just thought of us as friends all this time”

“are you sure? you’re not just saying this to make me feel better?”

“of course not, y/n/n. if you still like me and you don’t think I’m a complete idiot I would love to be your boyfriend”

you might’ve shed a tear or two. pure relief floods through you. happy tears flow from your eyes and jason pulls you into his chest, allowing you to let your tears out. he runs his hand up and down your back in a comforting notion until you calmed down

you lift your head up to look at him for the first time since he’s got back, making you realize how much you truly missed him

“I still think you’re an idiot” you mumble

“I’m fine with that, I deserve it”

you laugh. “jason?”

“yeah?”

“I’d love for you to be my boyfriend too”

jason smiles. the same one he’s always reserved for just you. “would it be okay if I kissed you?”

with the close proximity you were in any other boy would’ve went for it regardless of what you wanted. but you knew jason grace. he was the same boy that always made sure your comfort and needs came before his

“of course”

without another thought he leans in to capture your lips. for the first time, and hopefully never the last

[mochinek0]

Where is MY Boyfriend(FINAL)

PREVIOUS

Damian proposes.

Marinette: No

Damian: What?

Marinette: Damian, we've only been dating for five months.

Damian: You kicked the Joker's ass for me. You saved me!

Marinette: And if I hadn't saved you....would you still be proposing?

Silence.

Marinette: Exactly. Let's get to know each other better first

Damian: Fine, but I save you next time.

Marinette: How?

Damian shows off his katana collection. Marinette turns and looks at him

Marinette: Deal

She goes back to looking at the katanas. Damian ego boosted that she trusts him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

BatFam find out she rejected him

Bruce: Oh thank god.

Jason & Damian: What the hell?

Dick: She's adorable!

Bruce: You just met her! At least she's smart enough to realize that!

Tim: Also, if she said yes, she likely would have been after the Wayne money.

Damian: Didn't think about that

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3 months later:

Damian proposing each month

Marinette: You have to stop proposing!

Damian: But I have your parent's blessing

Mairnette: You called my parents?

Damian: I had to get their blessing.

Marinette turns red

Marinette: 1 year

Damian: Huh?

Marinette: We've been dating for eight months. Wait four more. I want this to last, please. I don't want this to end and I'm afraid it will. I love you. I love Titus and lil Alfred. I love Jerry and Batcow. I love your art and how much you understand me.

Damian sees she's tearing up. Gets up from kneeling and hugs her. Kisses her forehead.

Damian: 1 year.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

True to his word, Damian proposed on their one year anniversary.

Marinette: Yes.

Parents learn they are finally engaged. Happy for their daughter.

Former class learns Mari is never coming back and happily engaged to someone on another continent.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joker's mouth is finally healed.

Breaks out of Arkham and tries to take control of an art auction.

Spots Damian Wayne. Looks around cautiously.

No Marinette in sight.

Marinette comes out of the bathroom.

'Fuck!'

Drops his weapons and laughing gas.

Joker: Nope. Nope. Nope.

Goons: Boss?

Joker: No!

Walks out to GCPD and just gets in the back seat

Officer: J-Joker?

Joker: No!

Slams door closed

Joker: Just take me back

Marinette looks to Damian confused

Marinette: Did I miss something?

Damian: Not a thing.

TAG LIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @missmadwoman @meira-3919  @princessdaisysolosyourfaves @blep-23 @fangirlingfanatic @darkhinauniverse @ravenr22 @im-a-satanic-ritual @ravennm84  @bianca-hooks123 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @starling218

[dsireland86]

Anonymous asked: What song do you think the guys would have their first dance to at their wedding including Matt please?

The First Song was posted to this request a few weeks ago, and as requested, I'm making a part 2 to it. Each song will have a short story behind it. Enjoy my wonderful Culties!

First Dance Part 2

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @Youlookforultraviolet @kenjipepsi1

Folio

It took a lot of convincing for you to finally agree to go on a date with Nick. He's goofiness and energy and energy is not easily tolerable all the time, but that's okay because you knew how to reel him in each time he went a little too far. You became his stability, his conscience, his beautiful day, his everything. So, when you got engaged and were planning the music with Noah, he asked if he could pick the first song you dance to. You'll admit, you were scared at first, thinking it was going to Metallica or something off the wall, but when that moment came, after you were officially Mr. And Mrs., and the beginning of the song came on, you immediately teared up. It was one of your favorite songs and you never realized how perfect it fit your life with him. Taking your hand, Folio led you out to the dance floor and even though neither one of you knew how to properly dance, it didn't stop you from falling in love with your husband even more.

Nicholas

When you and Nick fell in love was a mystery. It just kind of happened, and it continued to happen everyday. Five years in and you two still felt the same way about each other as when you first met. Nick had a way of wearing his feelings for you on his sleeve. He never did it with anyone else; just you. You'd tell him often that his feelings were always thinking too loud, to which he'd reply it was hard not to do it with you. You'd joke with him and say that eventually his feelings would change especially once you had kids, but that would never happen. It would only make him love and want you more. Your wedding day came and after the toast, the first dance. You took Nicholas' hand and led him to the spot set up for dancing and wrapped your arms around his neck while he found your waist and together, as close as possible, danced to the song that would forever be yours.

Noah

Being with Noah wasn't easy. You met at a time in his life when things weren't going the best for him mentally and at first you believed that the relationship wouldn't last. His attitude and behavior, his negativity and outlook sometimes got to be too much. But you stayed. Time and time again, over and over you stayed, refusing to give up on him. You loved him, despite all the hardships, because even though things got hard, Noah loved the hell out of you, he was crazy about you and the future you were building together, and you felt it every single day. When he asked you to marry him, you didn't even let him get the proposal out all the way before saying yes, making Noah the happiest he'd ever been. You asked him to choose the song for your first dance, confident he'd pick a good one. And he did. Dancing alone together after everyone had left, Noah softly sang the song to you as he held you close with your head pressed against his chest. 

Jolly

When you and Jolly met, it wasn't under the best circumstance. There was tension and irritation involved, a high lack of tolerance from both sides. But as time went on, you noticed that Jolly had softened up to you just a little bit and eventually you began seeing him in a different light. He became sort of a beacon of safety in the midst of chaos and before you realized it, you had fallen for him, even though you were sure he didn't feel the same. But you promised yourself you'd wait for him, no matter how long it took; even if it never happened. Jolly was the one you'd ever want. It took a world rocking moment in Jolly's life for him to realize what you were to him; how you stayed by him and supported him through the worst, never questioning, never wavering. It was in those moments he knew he loved you. You and Jolly didn't have a reception after your wedding, instead choosing an intimate dinner with the Omen family. But once you were home, alone together, Jolly played this song for you as the two of you consummate your marriage.

Matt

Matt was anything but traditional when it came to your relationship. He never asked you out, but just started telling everyone that the two of you were together. You were his and he was yours and that was that. When you were alone he'd call you his lover and that's what you became to him; his lover with benefits. As time went on, the two of you became such a strong team together. You became a huge part in the way he worked and managed things behind the scenes for the band and other projects he did. But you needed him just as much. He was your voice when you were too scared to stick up for yourself, he was your protector from the assholes who tried to mess with you, but mostly, Matt was solid rock you anchored to, making everything that you couldn't figure out make sense. You both knew you were destined for one another, so it was no surprise when he took you to the clerk's office in town and you got your marriage license, keeping it a sacred secret between the two of you. And the very first and only time you ever saw Matt dance, was with you, a few days afterwards when he played this song for you while the two of you were working in the warehouse. To your surprise, Matt was a natural dancer and that was the day he swept you off your feet forever.

[demigod-shenanigans]

Summary: Under different circumstances, Leo would have been ecstatic about the prospect of getting to travel Reino del Sol with Piper for a week and a half.

The fact that it was due to the Sunbearer Trials, which would end with a fellow semidiós getting sacrificed, put a slight damper on his mood, though.

With both him and Piper being Jades, the chances of either of them being picked as a competitor was basically nonexistent, which would have helped… if it hadn’t been for the fact that Jason being chosen was basically a given.

Written for @lost-trio-week day 4: Godly Parent or Power Swap

Word Count: ~6K

Rating: Teen and Up

…is this me cheating on the prompt because while it’s technically a godly parent/power swap, it’s a power swap that takes place in a completely different universe? Maybe. Will that stop me? Probably not

Just to be safe: TW for mentions of human sacrifice If you’ve read tsbt, you’ll know what I mean. If you have not, think of it sort of in a similar vein as the HoO prophecy, where Leo and Jason know one of them has to die so the world won’t end.

You don’t need to have read the Sunbearer Duology to understand this fic! If you have, you’ll have some extra context for some of the things that are happening, but if you haven’t, you should still be alright!

This fic has a whole bunch of Leo and Piper friendship, a decent amount of valgrace, and Nyssa and Harley also make a bit of an appearance at the beginning, which I didn’t technically plan for but am not upset about!

———

Leo had been anxious about the upcoming Sunbearer Trials for a while now.

The trials were a decennial thing, and at fifteen years old, this was only the second trial Leo was around to witness. 

Ten years ago, he’d been too small to really understand what was going on. He’d known the very basics: that there were three kinds of gods, and one kind—the Obsidians—was dangerous and wanted to enslave all of humanity. That the deity Sol, or what remained of them, was the only thing keeping the Obsidians at bay during the day, and that the sun stones kept them away at night.

But the power of the sun stones was fragile, and so once every decade, they had to be recharged. That was what the trials were for.

Leo hadn’t really understood the horror of the trials, then. 

In his defense, he’d been five. Human sacrifice wasn’t really at the forefront of your mind at that age.

It was the only thing on his mind now, squished into a trajinera with the priests and his siblings as they made their way to Sol Temple.

His colorful wings twitched anxiously, repeatedly hitting his older sister Nyssa in the face. 

“Sorry,” he muttered for what was probably the fifth time in the last hour.

She waved him off, just like she had that morning when his little shaving cream on Jell-O prank had worked a little too well.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Usually, Nyssa wouldn’t have reacted this well. Leo knew his sister loved him to death, but that included her wanting to strangle him half the time. She’d never been a particular fan of his pranks or his general sense of humor. And, daughter of Quetzal or not, no one was a fan of getting a bunch of feathers in their mouth.

But Nyssa knew why Leo was anxious, and she was giving him a lot of grace because of it.

“He’s going to be okay. You know that, right?” she asked, gently squeezing his arm. Her huge brown wings, which had remained neatly folded at her side until now, protectively wrapped around one of his shoulders.

“Oh, please, I’m not worried,” Leo scoffed, self-consciously wiggling out of his sister’s winged embrace. “Why would I be worried? Jason’s, like, an obnoxiously perfect hero. He’s a literal poster child of a Gold semidiós. There’s no way he’ll lose.”

Despite the fact that it was normal and even expected for Gold semidioses due to their hero status, Leo still couldn’t believe there were posters and trading cards of Jason these days. Him and Piper had given their friend endless shit for it. Leo had Jason’s least favorite poster up in his room purely for the joy of seeing him cringe whenever he came to visit.

Not that Jason got the chance to visit a lot, busy as he was at the stupid hero academy. Maybe once he was done with school. If he-

Leo banished the thought. Jason would be fine. He’d be fine. He was ranked third in his class for a reason. There wouldn’t be bets about him participating and winning if it wasn’t obvious to everyone Jason had a very real shot at coming in first. He wouldn’t lose. He couldn’t. 

“You could still tell him how you feel, you know,” Nyssa said, nudging him gently. “Give him a kiss for good luck.”

“I will push you off this boat,” Leo hissed, blushing furiously.

“Right, that’ll inconvenience me greatly, considering I can fly.” Nyssa suddenly looked past him, craning her neck. “We’re coming up on the lake! Let’s see if we can spot the trajinera from Ciudad Afortuna. Surely the fact that you get to spend a whole week and a half exploring Reino del Sol with Piper will cheer you up.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “You just wanna look for Drew.”

“Well, it’s the same boat, so.” Nyssa shrugged. “You coming?”

He would never understand Nyssa’s obsession with Piper’s mean older sister, but she wasn’t wrong about the Piper thing. If it hadn’t been for the likelihood of Jason competing in the trials, getting to hang out and travel with his best friend in the entire world would have been a dream come true for Leo. He hadn’t seen Piper in months, which was absolutely criminal. He couldn’t wait to finally hug her again.

Leo turned to follow his sister to the front of the boat—there was a technical term for it, but Leo wasn’t the semidiós of boating, so he didn’t know it—but before he could, a little hand grabbed his sleeve, yanking on it so hard that it almost ripped.

He looked down to see the offending hand belonged to his little brother Harley. His anxious expression made Leo’s stomach churn.

“Be there in a sec!” he called after Nyssa before turning to their brother, who didn’t look like he planned to let go of him ever again. “Alright, Nestling, I get it. These outfits are kind of uncomfortable. I’d still appreciate it if you didn’t rip off my sleeve, though. You know mamá spent way too much money on those.”

“Yeah.” Harley dropped his hand from his brother’s sleeve. “I miss mamá.”

Leo relaxed marginally. Was that all his brother had wanted to talk about? The fact that he was feeling a little homesick? Leo could handle that. 

He was sure their diosa mom would shield Harley from the end of the trials, the way she’d done for Nyssa and Leo during the last ones, but he still hadn’t looked forward to having the whole “the person who loses the trials gets sacrificed to recharge the sun stones”-conversation with an eight year old.

“Well, you were gonna have to leave home one of these days, unless you want me to call you Nestling forever.” Leo ruffled his brother’s hair. “We’ll see her again after the trials are over. You know the only mortals who can come to Sol Temple are priests. Besides, even if she could, mamá’s got a big project at work. She can’t just ditch her team to come with us. They’d be lost without her.”

That was the downside of having a genius inventor for a mortal mom—whether she liked it or not, work kept her pretty busy. 

It had plenty of upsides, too: people said the name Esperanza Valdez with almost as much reverence as they did diosa Quetzal’s, which meant Leo could get away with damn near everything. Besides, her efforts to provide sustainable tech that protected Quetzlan wildlife was the reason his moms had met, so he supposed he couldn’t complain too much.

“I guess.” Harley huffed, blowing his curls out of his face. “That’s stupid, though.”

“Adult responsibilities are almost always stupid. That’s why you need me to set a terrible example.” Leo grinned. “So, were you pulling my sleeve out of boredom or did you actually want something?”

Harley mumbled something under his breath, so quietly that Leo didn’t catch a word he was saying.

“Sorry, hermanito, I think the light breeze drowned you out,” Leo teased, looking down at his little brother. “Let’s try that again, yeah?”

Harley didn’t meet his eyes, and he still spoke quietly, but it was loud enough for Leo to hear this time.

“Sol won’t pick you and Nyssa for the trials, right?” 

The idea was so absurd that Leo burst out laughing. 

“We’re Jades, Harls. Jade semidioses don’t get picked for the trials. That’s not a thing.” 

“Are you sure?” Harley wrung his hands, looking unconvinced. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“‘Course I’m sure, Nestling. The trials are for heroes that get put on posters. Not us.”

“But you saved someone yesterday. Doesn’t that make you a hero?”

Leo snorted.

“I barely helped, and it very nearly made me Leo flambé.” He cringed just thinking about it. “The only thing I really managed was to add myself to the list of people Jason and Percy had to save. Brotherly word of advice: take my bad example when it comes to funny pranks and skipping school. Do not try to match my shitty impulse control. It’s not worth it.” 

Leo had made Jason vow not to tell Piper he’d had to carry him out of a burning building. She’d never let him live that down. 

“Fine,” Harley agreed, finally cracking a smile. “We’re almost at the waterfall! I wanna see if I can stick my hand in!”

He didn’t give Leo a chance to reply. He just started pulling on his sleeve again, dragging him towards the front of the boat. 

Leo laughed.

~~~~

To head priest Hedge’s credit, he tried his best to keep Leo in the moving line of people, yanking on his arm and yelling in an entirely unpriestly manner whenever Leo stopped to look around for Jason and Piper. Leo had seen the boat from San Fuego—it was hard to overlook, giant ridiculous eyesore that it was due to both of Jason’s moms being awful show-offs—but Jason had arrived before he had and was already gone by the time Leo and his siblings had disembarked.

Unfortunately for Hedge, Leo spotted Piper in the crowd, at which point all of Quetzlan’s priests combined wouldn’t have been enough to keep him in line.

They were rushing towards each other the moment their eyes met, crowds and rules and yelling head priests be damned.

“Leo!”

“Piper!”

He slammed into his best friend’s chest with so much force that they nearly both toppled over, arms and wings wrapping around her simultaneously with no regards for the crowd surrounding them.

Several people cursed at him.

“Watch it, Bird Boy,” Drew scoffed, which Leo decided immediately would earn her more feathers to the face if he ever decided he was ready to let go of Piper again.

Piper hugged him back just as fiercely. She was trembling a little, and she’d looked strangely subdued when he’d spotted her—it had immediately been obvious that Leo wasn’t the only one anxious about their little Jason situation—but now her face split into a huge grin.

“I missed you so much,” Piper said, pressing her chin to the top of Leo’s head.

Menace that she was, she loved reminding him that she was slightly taller than him, even when they were being affectionate.

Leo didn’t mind too much. One of these days, he would have another growth spurt, and he’d take his revenge then.

“Right back at you. Keeping us apart so long should be illegal,” Leo announced, holding her even tighter.

“Can you two quit flirting and get a move on? You’re blocking the road,” Drew complained, earning disgusted expressions from both of them.

“We’re not flirting!” they protested simultaneously.

It wasn’t the first time someone had made that assumption, but it had never been like that between Leo and Piper. Piper was pretty sure she didn’t even like guys, and besides, assuming that two people were dating just because they were affectionate with each other was stupid, anyway. 

“Just admit you get absolutely zero hugs and leave us alone!” Leo yelled back at her. He would have been kind of sad for Drew if she hadn’t been such an ass.

“I honestly don’t really care what’s going on between you two weirdos, but please just get a move on. You’re holding up the line,” Drew complained, gesturing to the people around them that had to go out of their way to skirt around Leo and Piper’s little reunion party. “You can get back to whatever this is when we get inside.”

“Killjoy,” Piper grumbled, but she pulled her arm back, careful of her azabache bracelet the way she always was when they hugged.

The choice of jewelry had confused Leo at first—children of Mala Suerte didn’t generally need azabache bracelets to ward off bad luck, since their dad’s powers didn’t affect them the way it did other people.

But he’d quickly learned that her dad wasn’t the reason Piper wore it.

“Aw, Pipes, really? Don’t you think it’s time for me to get another haircut? Personally, I feel like my hair is getting kinda long.”

“Hardy har har.”

Leo stuck his tongue out at her. 

When they’d first become friends, the jewelry had ended up so utterly tangled in Leo’s curls that Hedge had had to cut it out with scissors, taking a bunch of Leo’s then chest-long hair with it.

Leo hadn’t been mad about it—it had been around the time that it had really started to click that the whole “being a girl”-thing wasn’t going to work out for him, but despite the fact that he’d hated his long hair, he’d not quite managed to work up the courage to ask his mamá to cut it. 

Piper had been kind enough to solve this problem for him not even an hour into their friendship—albeit not entirely on purpose—and they’d been inseparable ever since.

…well, slightly less physically inseparable than they’d been with Piper’s hand stuck in his hair, but still.

Leo looked back on that moment fondly for a variety of reasons, but as Piper’s best friend of five years, it was still his sacred duty to tease her about the incident every now and again.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Leo decided with a sigh, waiting for Piper’s nod before he started moving again.

They walked side by side, letting the large crowd of semidioses and priests push them towards the temple. It was a relief to not be doing this on his own—to have Piper there to distract him from the dread he’d been feeling all week.

They caught each other up on everything they’d missed during their time apart. 

Sure, they talked every chance they got, but it wasn’t the same when they couldn’t actually see each other. 

Hedge directed suspicious glances their way every few seconds.

“Is he still mad about what happened the last time I visited?” Piper asked, eyes glinting with mischief. 

“Yeah. Not sure why, though!” Leo grinned. “It’s not like he was using the boat when we borrowed it. And besides, it looked so much prettier when we returned it!“

“No appreciation for the arts.” Piper shook her head, making her expression overly grave. “It’s sad, really.”

“Truly.”

“Have you seen Jason yet?” she asked once they’d made it inside the temple.

They were surrounded by chatter and lively music, which seemed at odds with the fact that the trials were essentially someone’s very fancy funeral, but what did Leo know? 

“Nope! I saw his awful boat after we docked—which is in desperate need of a Leo and Piper makeover, by the way—but so far Goldie remains MIA.”

“Gods, yeah, you can tell Beryl really wanted to show off.” Piper rolled her eyes. “I hate that woman.”

“Tell me about it.” Leo gritted his teeth. “It’s like her and Lumbre are in constant competition for the position of world’s worst mom. Jason’s barely gotten a day off from the academy all year, and even when he has, half the time Beryl was hogging him for bragging purposes.”

“I still can’t believe she made him miss your birthday.” Piper scowled. “Have you gotten to see him at all lately?”

Leo hesitated. He really didn’t want to tell her about the fact that he’d had to be saved from his own dumbassery after he’d heroically locked himself and the person he was trying to help in a walk-in freezer, but he knew she’d pick up on it if he lied to her, and that was just bound to result in him getting grilled.

“…sort of,” he admitted. “There was a fire in Quetzlan yesterday. Jason and Percy dropped by to help. I did briefly see him, then.”

“I heard about that. Were you in the area when it happened? Did anyone get hurt?”

“A few people got treated for smoke inhalation. Nothing too bad.” If he’d been one of those people… well, Piper didn’t need to know that. “If you’re wondering if I know how he’s dealing with this whole situation… not really, unfortunately. You know what he’s like. He doesn’t talk about this shit.” 

“Maybe he won’t get picked,” Piper said, which Leo found awfully optimistic considering it came from the daughter of the god of bad luck. “I mean, he’s not ranked first, right? Maybe Sol will decide someone else is better suited.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Leo agreed, briefly letting himself imagine a scenario where he and Piper got to spend the next two weeks getting Jason in trouble. Realistically, he knew it wouldn’t happen, but it was a very nice thought regardless.

Leo craned his neck, making another attempt to try and spot Jason in the crowd.

It would have been easier if he’d used his wings to get a better vantage point, but he didn’t want to draw that much attention to himself, especially not with all the reporters around. He didn’t really care to answer stupid questions about his mamá or the fire or what he thought Jason’s chances of getting stabbed to death were. Besides, considering the odds of him and Piper pissing someone off during the course of the event were astronomical—though whether it would be on purpose or by accident was anyone’s guess—he didn’t want to risk photographic evidence.

Leo didn’t manage to find Jason this time, either. He spotted a few other Gold semidioses, though. 

Between Jason’s stories from school and the fact that Leo had seen several of them on the news, he at least vaguely knew who most of them were, despite the fact that he hadn’t met many of them in person. 

Percy and Annabeth clearly did not care to beat the power couple allegations, the way their arms were linked. From what Leo had seen of them on the news, he wasn’t surprised they both had Jason beat in the rankings.

Water and lightning were a terrifying combination, and Leo was glad he’d never have to face them in combat the way Jason did. 

For personal reasons, Leo still thought Jason’s powers were much cooler, though. 

A little way off, he spotted two of Guerrero’s youngest kids. Frank was chatting with a girl Leo only very vaguely recognized. As per usual, Clarisse was busy scowling at anyone in the general vicinity.

Suddenly, Piper nudged him. “No wonder we couldn’t find Jason. Look.”

He directed his attention towards where she was pointing, cringing at the sight.

Two semidiose reporters whose names Leo refused to remember out of pure spite had cornered Jason and were shoving cameras in his face. He was clearly trying his best to keep it together, but from the furrow in his brow and the way his lip was twitching, Leo figured he was a breath away from losing it.

Jason’s older sister Thalia, who was almost as famous for her short fuse as she was for her hero work, looked like desperately longed to set someone on fire.

“You wanna run a distract and extract mission before Thals kills someone?” he asked, already knowing Piper’s answer from the way she was scowling. 

“Obviously. As much as I’d love to see her punch a reporter, I don’t think it’d help Jason much.”

“So, what’s the plan? You wanna try and test your powers again?” he suggested carefully. “Make them trip on their shoelaces or something?”

Piper shook her head, glaring intently at the floor tiles. “You know that’s not how it works,” she said very quietly. 

He didn’t, actually. Neither did Piper. That was sort of the crux of the issue.

Unlike Drew, whose whole thing was warding off bad luck, Piper’s powers caused it. This could have been pretty cool, if it hadn’t been for the fact that she’d never been able to control said powers. Bad things just tended to happen around her, whether she wanted them to or not. 

The bracelet helped, but it wasn’t a perfect fix. Leo’s hair hadn’t been the first or only victim of Piper’s bad luck.

He knew it was a touchy subject. Maybe he should have stopped asking about it altogether. But a part of Leo was still hopeful that one day, Piper’s powers would come around and actually be a good thing. 

Maybe the fact that his feathers had changed last year, finally catching up with his gender and taking on the blue and green colors of a proper male quetzal, had made him a stupid optimist.

It was easier to be a stupid optimist, he supposed, when the worst thing you had to deal with on a daily basis was everyone knowing your moms and people being a little weird about your wings, instead of a dead mortal dad and people around you blaming you for every little thing that went wrong in their lives.

“Sorry. Forget I said anything.” He squeezed her hand, then let go of her so he could take off his backpack. “Let’s do it the old-fashioned way instead. How do you feel about a feathers and paint operation?”

Piper looked up at him. When she saw what he pulled from his bag—a little surprise he’d technically prepared to get back at Octavian for snitching on them after their last prank, but that would work just fine here—her lips slowly curled into a smile.

~~~~

The bad news about this strategy was that Leo’s bird friends were maybe getting a little too savvy at stealing things. The good news, well… it would be hard for the stupid reporters to harass anyone with a camera they no longer had. Also, Piper was great with distractions, and there was nothing that cheered her up quite like throwing paint bombs did.

Suddenly, the stupid reporters had a lot of things to worry about that weren’t the Lumbre siblings.

Before Jason knew what hit him, Leo had grabbed his hand and pulled him into the nearest corridor, running like hell.

“What the-” he asked, letting himself be pulled along despite his obvious confusion. Then his entire face lit up. “Leo?”

“At your service,” Leo joked, stopping once they’d rounded the next corner and bowing dramatically. “Piper’s gonna catch up with us in a second,” he told him. Before he got the chance to say anything else—“hello”, maybe, or “are you okay?”—Jason had scooped him up in the world’s tightest hug.

As was expected from a semidiós with fire powers, he radiated warmth. A hug from Jason always felt like being wrapped in a heated blanket. He smelt a little like an evening campfire. His curls brushed Leo’s forehead. It would have been so easy to reach out and run his hands through Jason’s hair…

Before Leo could do anything stupid, Piper rounded the corner, her delighted laughter echoing down the hall. The front of her shirt was absolutely splattered with paint.

“That was amazing. You should have seen their faces,” she giggled. The somber expression she’d worn earlier had been thoroughly wiped off her face.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you guys,” Jason admitted, and he and Leo simultaneously untangled one arm to pull Piper into their group hug, collateral damage via paint be damned. Leo’s mamá would probably forgive him. “Another second of being grilled by them and they’d have gotten great pictures of me having a panic attack in the middle of the hall.”

“You’d die without us, probably,” Leo joked, squeezing Jason’s shoulder. “But I’m pretty sure Thalia would have punched the reporters’ lights out before letting that happen.”

“I’m not sure which one of our moms would have killed us faster if that had happened,” Jason replied, chewing on the scar on his lip. He said it in a joking tone, but he still looked a little shaken. 

This didn’t exactly surprise Leo. Jason liked helping people—always had. But he’d never dealt with the public attention he got from hero work especially well.

Half the reason Leo and Piper had first befriended Jason was that it had always been blatantly obvious he didn’t deal with people well. At every ceremony the dioses and semidioses attended together, Jason had stood around either alone or clinging to his older sister’s skirts. Large groups of people tended to seriously overwhelm him.

He’d been okay while he still had Thalia, but things had gone from bad to worse when she’d graduated and started missing ceremonies because of her assignments.

Some four years ago, Piper and Leo had seen Jason standing beside a sour-faced priestess that was clearly less than thrilled to be demoted to babysitter for the day and had promptly decided that they were adopting him into their friend group, whether he liked it or not.

And, well, the rest was history.

“Have your parents been giving you a hard time about the trials?” Piper asked, expression fierce. “I’m not opposed to paint bombing a goddess if the situation warrants it.”

Jason laughed.

“Thanks, but I don’t think you getting incinerated would help,” he told her. Piper gently kicked him in the leg. “Hey!”

“I’m with Pipes here. Do not underestimate her skill to sneakily paint bomb people,” Leo tutted. Jason raised an eyebrow, gesturing at Piper’s paint-covered suit. “…current situation notwithstanding.”

“Traitor,” Piper complained, sticking her tongue out at Leo. 

“It’s just… Thalia ranked second in her trials, despite being the youngest participant,” Jason said quietly. “I don’t know what would happen if Sol didn’t pick me for the trials at all.”

“Oh yeah, having to put up with Piper and me for two weeks would just be horrible. Way worse than having to fight for your life,” Leo teased, though he knew what Jason was getting at. Jason already put a lot of pressure on himself, and coming from a long line of Sunbearers and having his strict as hell diosa mother as his principal definitely didn’t help.

Jason opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, someone cleared their throat behind them.

Leo turned.

His mother’s head priest was standing there, his arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed in displeasure.

“So that’s where you three ran off to.”

“Hedge! Hey! Fancy meeting you here,” Piper said cheerfully, giving him her widest grin. “How’s your wife?”

Hedge’s expression softened marginally. He loved to claim he didn’t like Piper all that much—he said it was because she got Leo into too much trouble, though objectively said trouble originated from Leo at least sixty percent of the time—but in truth, it was obvious he’d always had a soft spot for her.

“Mellie is great. But do not think you can distract me from doing my job right now. It’s almost time for the ceremony. I don’t know what you Fledgelings were thinking, but-” Hedge paused, taking in their outfits. “Why in Sol’s name are you three covered in paint?”

~~~~

An emergency cleaning session later, the three of them headed up the stairs towards the altar together. 

Leo’s stomach rolled. He’d been the happiest person alive upon seeing his two best friends again, but his cheerful mood had begun to abate as they ascended, and seeing the altar thoroughly killed it. The trials began and ended here. Even if it wouldn’t be Jason—Leo quietly prayed to his mother and Sol and any other deity that might listen that it wouldn’t be Jason—someone would die here soon. He felt sick just thinking about it.

“If you’d all gather around, we’ll start with the ceremony,” Diosa Luna announced.

She was the goddess of the moon, as well as Sol’s high priestess. Because they couldn’t be around to do it, she’d been in charge of the trials since they’d taken place for the first time, communicating with Sol all throughout and making sure their will was heard as best as it could be.

Leo squeezed Jason’s hand one last time before they separated. 

Then Jason went to stand with his mother and sister. 

Reyna—the one proper friend Jason had managed to make at hero school—looked from the remnants of paint on Jason’s uniform to Leo and Piper. She raised an eyebrow, but she said nothing.

Leo never quite knew what to make of her, though he supposed the fact that Jason was friends with her meant she couldn’t be all that bad.

The same could not be said for his classmate Octavian, who was openly scowling at Leo and Piper, and not just because they were late. There were still Golds who heavily frowned upon Jason “lowering himself” to be friends with two Jades, and Octavian had always made it blatantly obvious that he was one of them.

“Jackass,” Leo muttered under his breath, and Piper snorted, pulling him along until they reached their respective families. 

“You guys look like you had fun,” Nyssa commented, giving them an amused look.

“We did,” Leo confirmed, but he felt nothing as he said it. He didn’t even look at his sister. Instead, his eyes found Jason’s across the room. 

The dioses were standing behind their children, most giving them encouraging looks and nods. Quetzal ruffled Leo’s feathers. 

“You’ll be alright,” she reassured him gently.

“Yeah, I know,” Leo replied, sounding braver than he felt. 

He was a Jade. Like he’d told Harley, Sol didn’t pick Jades for the trials. They were only here as a formality. 

But there was still something nerve-wracking about standing around the altar, waiting for the ceremony to begin. 

Most people wouldn’t have been thrilled to be standing so close to the god of bad luck right now, but Leo was thankful. It meant he got to have Piper by his side for this, which made things a million times less miserable.

If he’d wanted to, he could have reached out and given her hand a squeeze, but he wasn’t quite ready to admit how afraid he felt.

Jason was still looking at him, smiling encouragingly.

Luna gave a whole speech about fortune and sacrifice and the role of the future Sunbearer, but Leo wasn’t really listening. He was looking at Jason across the altar—at his anxious stance and his smile—and trying desperately not to think about him ending up on said altar, his eyes empty and his warm skin growing horribly cold as golden blood dripped from the sacrificial dagger. 

Leo’s mother squeezed his shoulder with warm fingers.

“You don’t need to worry about Jason,” she told him gently. “He will do just fine.”

Leo still felt nauseous. When Luna asked the Dioses to present their eligible children, he mechanically stepped forward—Nyssa to his left, Piper to his right. He briefly glanced back to see his mother gathering an obviously anxious Harley up in her arms, soothing him to the best of her abilities.

They all gathered around the Sol Stone. It was unnervingly quiet. Then, the stone began to hum and glow, which Leo immediately decided was worse.

A moment passed. Then, there was a flash of light. Sol had chosen the first competitor.

Leo turned to look. A sunburst crown had appeared on Annabeth’s head. The golden metal glinted dully.

No one was exactly shocked that Annabeth had been picked. Her father, Tormentoso, rumbled in approval. Annabeth herself tried to seem all calm and collected as she adjusted the crown on her head, but it was obvious she was thrilled that she’d not only been chosen but had been chosen before anyone else.

She grinned over at Percy like she’d just won some sort of competition between them.

Percy was the next person Sol chose, which also wasn’t surprising.

The next two choices were the two children of Guerrero Leo had seen earlier. Clarisse, their oldest eligible daughter, and her younger brother Frank. That was unusual enough that Luna had trouble getting the crowd to quiet down. Leo had never heard of a pair of siblings competing in the trials the same year.

Clarisse looked thrilled. Leo didn’t think Frank looked quite as excited, but he squared his shoulders and did his best to mimic his sister’s proud pose.

Octavian was next, then a daughter of Tierra named Hazel. She was the youngest competitor that had been chosen so far, but she didn’t look afraid. She brushed back her curls and raised her head, expression fierce.

Reyna was next. That meant there were only three spots left.

With every crown that appeared on a head that wasn’t Jason’s, Jason looked more like he wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. Leo’s feelings were warring with each other. He hated the anxious look on Jason’s face—hated the way Lumbre’s fingers were digging into her son’s shoulders even more—but he still didn’t want Jason to be chosen. He wanted him to be safe more than anything.

Just three more spots. Leo almost allowed himself to hope. Not Jason. Not Jason. Not Jason. 

Of course, because the universe hated him, the next crown was Jason’s. Jason’s shoulders slumped in relief. Reyna squeezed his hand, smiling softly at him.

Leo found some comfort in the fact that at least Jason would have someone in his corner, but he was still having a hard time not freaking out. Not staring at the altar and thinking about Jason bleeding out on top of it, expression brave and determined and then completely still.

The next flash—competitor number nine—was so close to Leo that he was disoriented for a second. The crowd broke into surprised chatter again, much louder than it had been when Sol had picked the second one of the Guerrero siblings. Heads swiveled.

Leo was still staring at Jason, who looked right back at him, all signs of relief gone from his expression. His face was ashen, eyes wide with alarm.

“They can’t do that!” a familiar voice protested. Leo realized with a jolt that it was Drew.

He turned to his right, confused as to which Gold had been chosen that could possibly elicit that kind of reaction when everyone had been just fine with Hazel being chosen a moment ago. 

Piper was anxiously fiddling with the pendant of her azabache bracelet. Her face had lost all color. 

Leo’s eyes met hers.

Then they trailed upwards to the sunburst crown on top of her head, and the ground fell out from underneath his feet.

Leo couldn’t breathe. He felt like he had been dropped off a cliff, the ground hurtling towards him and his wings refusing to work. 

He hadn’t even considered the possibility that Piper might be chosen for the trials. He hadn’t even considered he might lose her. Why would he have? Jades were basically never chosen for the trials! 

This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t- this wasn’t real. He was stuck in some kind of bizarre nightmare. There was no way this was actually happening.

In what world would Sol choose Piper? She barely even had any powers, for crying out loud! How could she stand a chance against nine people who had been training for this for almost their entire lives? That wasn’t fair! She couldn’t- Leo couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t. 

He looked back towards his mom, whose expression of shock mirrored his own.

Leo did reach out to take Piper’s hand, then. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, but he clutched her trembling fingers tightly, tapping Morse code on the back of her hand. Love you. Love you. Love you. Over and over again. After the third time, Piper started tapping the same message back at him.

Leo looked at Jason across the room. There wasn’t a word said between them, but they didn’t need words to express what they were both thinking.

Jason would do whatever he could to help Piper in the trials. They didn’t have to talk about it for Leo to know that he would.

There was another flash. Sol had chosen the final competitor. 

Leo didn’t want to care who it was—he didn’t think it could get any worse than both Jason and Piper being chosen—but, once again, the flash had been horribly, disorientingly close. Leo had to take a moment to blink the spots out of his eyes. 

If possible, Jason’s face had gone even grayer. There was a sobbing noise behind Leo that he was pretty sure was from Harley.

Leo’s heart hammered in his chest as he remembered that his sister was also eligible for the trials and that she was standing right next to him. Please not her, too. 

Leo braced himself as he turned around to look at Nyssa. It was harder than he’d expected. His head felt strangely heavy all of a sudden.

His sister’s head was thankfully crownless. This would have been a huge relief, except she was staring at him, an expression of utter terror written across her features.

Leo reached up with trembling hands, praying he’d imagined the new weight on his head. But despite him being surrounded by deities, it was clear none of them were listening.

As he tried to brush back his hair, his fingers touched the cold metal of the final sunburst crown.

———

Fic notes:

-This is hands down one of the most self-indulgent fics I have ever written, I had absolutely ridiculous amounts of fun writing this fic!

-Sunbearer Trials and Celestial Monsters are probably my favorite reads of the year (which is saying a lot considering how many books I’ve read this year) and I cannot stress enough that I think you guys would really enjoy them. This goes especially for the valgrace shippers. Aurelio is sooo Jason Grace coded you guys would love him.

-Just absolutely lovely books about a whole bunch of queer demigods with a super cool surrounding mythology that I promise is explained way better in the books than my very basic summary for the purposes of this fic suggests lmao. I cannot recommend them enough.

-If you’d like to understand the world building better, I’d recommend just checking out the prologue of the book! I did my best with trying to explain it but I’m not sure I succeeded, ngl

-Leo as Teo and Jason as a sort of Niya-Aurelio-mix were really obvious choices, but I struggled to figured out what exactly I wanted Piper’s role to be. When it clicked tho… made the whole fic come together. I’m so thrilled for the target audience of me and like maybe two other people in the universe who will get it to read this fic!

-Since this fic is intended to make people read the books, I thought this was a pretty good point to end it on! There’s some other scenes that could theoretically be fun to explore in this universe (I have one especially that I really want to do, but, well, spoilers). We’ll see how it goes.

Also specifically tagging @froglyberrys and @on-starrii-nights since you guys were interested in this concept when I first posted about it (hope that’s okay, let me know if you want me to remove the tag)

[hanihazeljade]

Three Settings

Christmas is around the corner and the manor is exceedingly overflowing of it's spirit, except Tim.

Part Five of Three Weeks

Prev - Three Events

Next - Three Videos

(CW: namecalling, explicit sexual intercourse, hatred of christmas, liquor)

Tim hates Christmas. 

It is a holiday that the Drake household never celebrates. Jack and Janet’s belief is that why do you need a holiday to spend with your family when you can do it whenever you can. Maybe it's because of the fact that their family cannot be together every Christmas as his parents are in their digs. 

So, Tim never really likes Christmas that well.  He never liked the idea of celebrating Christmas, he never did it with his parents and never in the house of Wayne's, and he basically used Christmas in Japan as a way to have a new guy in his bed, fucking his brains out.

So, seeing the Waynes to get some Christmas spirit in him. He wanted to roll his eyes at them but he, unfortunately, was trying to be civil with them. However, one more offer of decorating another tree, he has half his mind of jumping to the nearest window and breaking his leg so he won't be able to celebrate it. But he wanted to dance at Cass’ wedding, so that is a no.

It seems like the world's greatest detective family is a fucking idiot. Intellectually intelligent but emotionally unavailable. A fucking hypocrite he is. They can’t seem to comprehend that Timothy hates being around Christmas things  or just being around the vibe of Christmas.

Timothy is an amazing human being who practised patience and meditation but he once again has his limits. So, he escaped to the comfort of his room, as the Christmas jingles echoing throughout the hallway of the manor. This is the worst. He wished that he could just sneaked out and go to the clubs in the Diamond District and have someone to fuck his worries for a while, after all it’s been a while since he got laid back in Japan.

But then again, why can't he do it here? He is a well functioning adult, has a good income and anyone can’t say shit about him bedding anyone. After all Bruce had bed women as the same number of the days of the year, Richard has also had his fair share of laying some women in his bed to please. Jason may have died virgin but definitely likes to have a taste of Richard’s leftovers and maybe some original taste to himself. Damian may look rigid but Gazette saw him going home with some models. And Tim is a healthy man, he has needs. He was not the same stuck-up Robin that they know.

So he gets up from laying down and starts cleaning himself well. He has guys to woo to satiate his needs. 

He has some worries that he will get caught but he remembered that it is near Christmas Eve, the Christmas related crimes are on the top, so therefore all hands on the deck, even Alfred. So he just whooshed to the front door, and he was gone to the Diamond District.

He turned on the radio on his phone to listen to some news as to who is the main rogue for the night and it looks like Ivy and Harley are having a date and Mr. Freeze is doing a scene from Frozen. With that he knew to avoid Robinson Park and the Cherry Hills. He took a cab to take him to some club in Diamond District,  after all, Richard will probably patrol around the Robinson Park, Jason will continue his route to the Crime Alley, Cass and Steph will be trying to find where the two love birds to stop their date, the only vigilantes he could meet is Batman and Grackle, Damian new mantle for now.

But it is not like they would stop by the rich ass bar when there are major rogues out loose. Tim would rather not risk it to choose a run down bar. After all, he is a delicate maiden.

The bar he chooses is filled with different men, as it is a gay bar. Some are ogling him not so subtly and he knows, after all he wore one of Steph’s see through blouse and the tightest jeans that he had. His hair was styled to a calculated messy bun and his body was adorned in different accessories. And his makeup that makes his blue eyes popped so much more and the lip oil he applied to make his lips so juicy.

He is getting drinks left and right but he the one that he fancies are some stuck up assholes, so much for his type, that probably doesn’t do shit in bed. But of course, he got one. There is a tall, buff man with tattoos lingering on his skin. The man’s gaze is as sharp as a viper waiting to plunge on its prey and Tim is feeling things for himself.

Not wasting any more time, Tim strikes up a conversation to the guy, “Hey handsome, nice tats.” he said as he walked closer to the man.

The man eagerly put his hands on Tim’s waist and put Tim on his lap as Tim squealed flirtingly, “Would you want to explore more of my ink?” He said as he tightened the grip on his waist and Tim was loving the grip.

Tim giggled, “Then may I know the name, first?” he asked cheekily.

The man smirked at Tim’s coy display of naiveness, “Name’s Nathan, baby. How ‘bout you, angel?”

“Mine is Timothy, but angel works just fine too.” Timothy said as he closed their distance and kissed the guy, passionately and hard. They were going with it like a man discovering an oasis in the middle of dessert. Both of them groped each other until they separated to catch some breath.

“My place or yours?” Nathan asked, as he grinds his hard on to Tim’s ass.

Tim giggled as he rocked back, “Yours, just visiting here.” He said as he can feel the package beneath him.

Nathan chuckled, “Poor little angel, visiting a family in this wicked city.” Having a family in this godforsaken city when you already escaped is such a pain.

Tim rolled his eyes at such remarks, “Let’s not talk about them when we could be going to your place right now.” he said as he pouted as if upset that someone is talking about his ‘family’.

Nathan just quirk his brow, Gotham has a lot of kids that don't have a good relationship with their family, and he was just here for some pretty boys, not to settle with someone. “Eager little vixen you are, angel.” he redirects the topic to the beautiful man in front of him, after all, he doesn’t want to let this angel go just because he is curious about things that he doesn’t care about.

It seems like the pretty angel took it, as he caressed his biceps, “Well, I need to be if I want a strong man to handle me.”

“Then shall we get out of here, huh?” 

++++++

Tim left Nathan’s apartment at 10 in the morning. Nathan is a beast in bed, one of his best sex in his life. The morning sex is a plus and he will never complain about the surprises staying over. His horny self is now satiated.

However, his good mood was once thrown outside of the window as he went back to Wayne Manor. He was not expecting such commotion in this early morning. He was about to leave them to argue some more but Damian saw him.

“Timothy! You are finally home.” With Damian’s declaration of his presence, everyone went to him and they definitely all can see the bruises and bites of Nathan through the see through blouse. Honestly he likes those marks of possession.

Steph reacts first after seeing her blouse that was gifted by Cass, “Is that my blouse?”

Jason saw all the dark marks behind the see through blouse, “What is that?!” he reacted. 

“Why do you smell like sex?” Richard asks as he wants to hug Tim but he rather not as he smells the strong smell of intercourse. “Tim you did not hook up, right?!”

“It’s hickeys, Jason.” Tim rolled his eyes, everyone was acting like a virgin. “And I did hook up with someone, they are very good at bed.” he smirked at them, and he saw each of them have a shocked expression, especially Grayson. But he never expected the words coming out of Richard’s mouth.

“Stop whoring around Tim, this isn’t like you!”

A slap cracked in the atmosphere. Tim was also shocked that he slapped Dick Grayson across his face, but his anger was far more superior than his shock.

“So what? I changed, Richard, just in case you still haven’t noticed. I am not like who I was seven years ago, because now? I love myself, I know my value without pleasing anybody. I know who I am. So what, if I am sleeping around with different guys each week? You never heard jackshit about me when you are preening with your gaggle of redheads.” He said as he went back to the front door, but got held back by Damian.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Tim pulls his arm away from the tight grip of Damian, “Away from you, if your feeble detective brain couldn’t recognise what I am gonna do, Damian.” 

“Where?”

“That, I believe, is none of your business.” And the door was slammed shut.

++++++

A knock in the middle of the supposedly peaceful Saturday in her apartment woke her up. She doesn’t know who in their right mind knocks on her door, on the weekend, that she knew, to wake her up before the sun starts setting down?

She opened the door and was surprised to see Timothy Drake, the man that she knew to rather sleep until the sun was halfway down if he had a choice, standing outside of her apartment, and asked, “Hey Tam. Mind if I stay over?” with a miserable face and anger was still lingering in his eyes. But Tam just let Tim in, by opening her door wider.

Tim plopped down the couch and wanted to scream as Tam went to her bathroom to freshen up and have a mind to look after Tim. 

When she finished, she finally looked at Tim properly. Tim’s hair that was normally was in such perfection but now there strays. The smell of sex and the hickeys were also a dead give away that Tim had a nice night. And honestly, Tam was jealous. She could also have the best night of her life if just a certain baldie just stops pushing her. But enough of Prudence, she has a Timothy to babysit. 

Tam sat beside him and asked, “What happened?” because Tim is obviously not fine and would not ask any unnecessary questions regarding his feelings when it was so obvious.

Tim just sighed loudly, and screamed in the pillow he had on his lap. And once he was done, he raised his head and finally responded, “Just got called a whore, nothing more.” His answer was muffled by the pillow as his head was still buried on it. 

‘Whore?’ Tam thought to herself as she thought of all the people around Tim,“By who?” It cannot be within the family of Waynes as each of the Waynes have a notorious long notch to their bedpost.

But alas, Tim destroyed her thoughts, “The second whore himself, Dick Grayson.”

Tam was taken aback, after all, Richie Wayne is next to Brucie Wayne in the most notches. He was like Brucie but in moderation. “Wow. Didn’t he have like a harem of ginger fuckers?” She told Tim as she had been so active in the capes scene.

And with that Tim explodes, as he finally has someone to know how he actually feels! “He told me to stop whoring around! Like I am making money by getting fucked by those guys, well maybe I should. Just to pissed him off more.” Tim said as if he was thinking of going back with a bunch of dollars in his hand as if he just finished a night being a stripper. That was a nice thought, maybe he would do that.

Tam pat Tim’s shoulder, “Petty, but how about let’s drink our asses tonight? It’s Sunday tomorrow.” she proposed to Tim as she knows Tim just went to the bar to hook up but not to drink and she has some strong beer and no one can blame her. She is a hardworking woman under the Wayne Enterprise, with scandals far deeper than the Mariana Trench.

Tim had a thought for a while and he didn't have any to lose, so he agreed. “Sure.” Maybe he can use the hangover as an excuse not to celebrate Christmas.

Tam stood up, “I’ll order some chicken and pizza, and some fries too.” and went back to her room to get her phone. But she quickly came back throwing clothes at Tim, “Wear this, I don’t want to have a reminder that you got laid before me.”

[badfanfictionaire]

Five years, three days, and nine hours.

That’s how long he’s been in love with her.

The problem used to be that she was taken, betrothed to another man.

Lately there was an even bigger problem: she was missing.

And the other compounding problem was that Eddie was being blamed for her disappearance.

See, Chrissy had out of the blue asked to meet in the woods to buy some dope off of him. He didn’t say no, obviously, he wasn’t crazy enough to turn down the Queen herself. One thing had led to another, and while he didn’t end up making a sale, he did make plans. Chrissy was set to come by his place later, not to pick up weed but to borrow some tapes of his. But then she didn’t show. At first he thought she chickened out, but then when he saw on the news the next morning that she was missing, he went out to help look for her and found her bike propped up by the front step. He thought he could move it and no one would be any wiser, but someone had already seen it, because next thing he knew he was right there on the news next to her, but with wanted scrawled underneath his ugly mug.

Thank Satan for his friends, because they knew better than to believe everything they saw. They got his side of the story, and agreed to hide him away until they figured out what really happened to Chrissy Cunningham that night.

It was March, still a little too cold at night to do much more than sit inside and stare at the woods surrounding Rick’s boathouse. The kids had been by earlier to bring him some dinner and Steve had dropped off a case of beer. His stomach was full and he was a little drowsy. That’s why when the candle on the mantle place randomly flickered to life he thought maybe he was drunker, or more tired, than he realized. First of all, why did Rick of all people have a scented candle over his mantle place? As if that was going to cover up the smell of all the fucking weed. And second of all, why the fuck would he, Eddie Munson, have lit said scented candle?

“I need to go to bed,” he mutters to himself, blowing the candle out.

He turns off the light and goes to walk down the brief hall to the bedroom when the candle lights again.

“Umm, what the fuck?”

He rubs at his eyes, but the candle is still aflame.

“…Chrissy?” he asks the empty room, “If this is some sort of sick prank, you can stop now. I get it, poor little freak is about to shit his pants over a candle. Did Jason put you up to this?”

He moves to blow the candle out again but as he does a wave of cold air washes over him and he freezes.

“Come on Chrissy, I don’t like this.”

The candle flame flutters like someone is half heartedly blowing at it, but not enough to blow it out.

“Ok, um, I’m gonna leave. Please don’t burn down Rick’s place, he’ll kill me.”

The candle flickers again.

“Is that a no or a yes?!”

Nothing.

Frustrated he pulls at his hair. “Ok, ok, fine, I’ll play the game you creepy demon ghost thing. One flicker for yes, two for no, got it?”

The candle flame bobs once.

“Ok, cool, I’m officially fucking losing my mind.” If you can’t beat your delusions, join ‘em…

“So, are you Chrissy?”

One flicker.

“Wonderful, I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be haunted by. Um, ok, next question… are you, uh, dead?”

Two flickers.

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh thank fuck. Ok, so, just invisible then. That’s… unnerving. Have you been following me this whole time?”

One flicker.

“Cool cool cool. Can I like, undo this invisibility thing somehow?”

One flicker.

“Great, uh, ok, I might have to ask for some backup-”

The flame bobs twice.

“Hey, I’m a super senior here, I don’t exactly know how to undo voodoo. You’re going to have to let me bring in an expert on weird shit.”

One flicker.

“So we’re on the same page then, lovely. Fuck, why did you wait until today to contact me? I’ve been here for two fucking days, and you could have just candle messaged me in the trailer! Nope, you know what, it’s fine! I’m sure there’s a valid reason. Like… maybe it takes a long time for ghost powers to accumulate enough for candle magic.”

One flicker.

“Of course, because why would anything ever be easy right off the bat… I’m sorry I called you a demon... You haven’t been, like, watching me sleep or anything have you?”

Two flickers.

“Yeah, that would be weird.” It’s not like I don’t dream about you every night though… “Is there and easier way to do this? Is candle shit difficult?”

Two flickers.

“Ok, good.”

He plops down on the sofa and buries his face in his hands.

“Maybe we should call it a night, I’m not thinking clearly and you’re invisible. I think I need coffee before I can wrap my head around how you just poofed out of existence.”

The candle bobs twice and then goes out completely. The wave of cold air washes over him again and he realizes it’s Chrissy’s presence that he’s feeling.

Once again he starts for the bedroom, but then the faucet in the kitchen turns on full blast.

“Holy shit,” he shrieks, running to shut it off before the splashes completely soak everything. His hand is on the knob when he spies the glass coffee carafe being nudged along the counter toward him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Cunningham. I meant in the morning!”

He swears he can see her crossing her arms over her chest and pouting at him.

“Fine, fine. I imagine you’re anxious to be un-invisibled.”

Begrudgingly he fills the carafe and dumps the water in the machine. Once the pot is full enough he gets a mug down and then pauses.

“Can you drink or anything? Oh wait, how am I supposed to ask you without the candle?”

A fridge magnet lands on the counter.

“Uhh, ok. If it’s no, flip the magnet over I guess.”

The magnet flips to the backside.

“So no coffee then, got it.”

He pours himself a cup and adds some of the powdered creamer Rick keeps in a porcelain cow shaped container. There’s no sugar, so just cream it is.

After a few slurps he looks back over at the magnet. “This would be so much easier if you could just write shit down.”

The magnet flips so it’s on its side.

“Yeah, I know, too much to ask. Jesus H. Christ, I’m taking to a magnet right now, I mean I’m assuming I’m talking to a person but there’s a 50% chance I’m high as tits right now and I’m talking to a goddamn magnet.”

The magnet reattaches itself to the fridge, and instead a different magnet flops to the counter. This one is a cutout of Betty Boop riding a horse and twirling a lasso.

“Rick’s late wife was named Betty,” he tells Chrissy, “She didn’t look a thing like Betty Boop, but, that was what Rick called her. Boop, or Boopie, or Boopadoodle. Kind of disgustingly sweet in a stoner kind of way. I’m sure Carver called you all kinds of cute-”

The magnet aggressively flips over.

“Ok, Carver’s a sore subject I see. Well that’s alright sweetheart, we don’t have to talk about him. Rather not, actually, since he’s currently dying for my head on a pike over your being gone. Speaking of, do you have any idea how this happened?”

The magnet flips to its front.

“Genie?”

Back.

“Old hag?”

Nothing.

“Shooting star?”

Betty Boop reappears.

“Seriously? You what, wished on a shooting star to disappear, and you did? In my front yard nonetheless, Jesus H. Christ.”

He downs the rest of his coffee.

“So I’m assuming we probably need to un-wish this to bring you back onto the visible plane.”

Betty Boop stares at him.

“Fucking great,” he groans, “I’m definitely gonna have to bring in the geek squad for this, I have zero idea how to predict when there’s a suitable shooting star or if it’s just a fucking statillite. And I don’t want to fuck this up, because I kind of was looking forward to hanging out.”

Betty doesn’t move.

“Did you want to hang out?” he asks, suddenly feeling quite shy.

Betty stays put.

“Oh. Good. God, I wish I could hear your voice right now. Or I wish I could see your face at least, talking to my-”

The lights in the boathouse shut off abruptly.

“Chrissy, that’s not fucking funny!”

“That wasn’t me,” a voice says in the darkness.

Eddie scrambles for the light switch. And there, in the middle of Rick’s putrid yellow kitchen, is Chrissy Cunningham herself.

“Welcome back,” he smiles.

The sight of Chrissy smiling back at him is the best thing he’s ever seen in his whole fucking life.

👻👻👻👻

(Read on AO3)